


will your system be alright, when you dream of home tonight?

by oceanaa



Series: The Adventures of Rey (Djarin-Skywalker) [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Families of Choice, Family Dynamics, Gen, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, Jedi Training (Star Wars), Not Canon Compliant, Planet Jakku (Star Wars), Planet Yavin 4 (Star Wars), Siblings, THEYRE SIBLINGS., Young Ben Solo, Young Finn (Star Wars), Young Rey (Star Wars), stories, yes. both of those.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28707762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanaa/pseuds/oceanaa
Summary: “Mama, where do we come from?”“Oh, Rey. My darling. If only it were safe for you to know.”Captured by the Empire, confused and lost and so alone, Rey reaches out to the only person in the galaxy she thinks might be able to help. She gets more than she could have ever imagined...
Relationships: Din Djarin & Rey, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker (background), Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Luke Skywalker
Series: The Adventures of Rey (Djarin-Skywalker) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102853
Comments: 30
Kudos: 315





	1. chapter 1: capture

**Author's Note:**

> ngl boys, this one's a bit odd
> 
> (technically, the first part of this series is the prequel to this. u dont Need to read that one first, but. it might make things a smidge easier)
> 
> buckle up. this is my city now.

_“Mama, where do we come from?”_

_“You come from two worlds, little one.”_

The air was cool and dry against her cheeks, not quite cold enough to bite. With only goggles to protect her eyes, she could smile, open-mouthed and toothy, and feel the chill all the way to the back of her throat. Though her speeder bike was already pushed to its limit, she edged it even faster, putting every ounce of determination into tearing across the open sand, racing the horizon in a futile but joyful race. The stars gleamed above her, unnaturally bright in her state of heightened euphoria, specks of distant, twinkling silver above her.

Her breakneck pace was slowed as she careened up the gradually increasing incline of a dune until finally, she dipped over the top and began her descent. The front of the bike hit the sand hard, rattling her teeth in her skull, and Rey let out a whoop of excitement as she picked up speed.

Going downhill, she could truly reach deadly speeds, so she only leaned into the wind and pushed herself and the bike to the limit.

This, this adrenaline rush under the stars, this was what kept Rey sane. Like this, no memories, no dreams, no thoughts of any kind could catch her. Like this, she was _alive._ Like this, she felt invincible.

But of course, it was only temporary. Before long, she knew she needed to turn around before she ran out of fuel. This wasn’t something she allowed herself to do often, since technically it was a waste of both time and fuel. But there were only so many sleepless nights Rey could handle.

Reluctantly, she slowed the speeder bike enough to turn, pointing back the way she came.

Then, she hesitated, stopped the bike entirely, and jumped off and onto the cool sand. The night air felt almost warm now that she wasn’t tearing through it at high speeds, and she let herself enjoy it. With little care, Rey fell to her knees in the sand, then down onto her back, arms outstretched to either side of her.

_“Mama, where do we come from?”_

_“You come from two worlds, little one.”_

_“But what about you and papa?”_

_“Oh, Rey. My darling. If only it were safe for you to know.”_

The moons stared down at her, bathing her in pale light. The stars twinkled. The sky hung above her head like a thick blanket, pulsing with life Rey could not see but _knew_ was there.

She could feel it.

She wondered, idly, if that was a Jedi thing, too.

She dismissed the thought.

When the sand became too cold and Rey began to shiver, she pushed herself up, clambered onto her bike, and began the journey home.

Home. The broken down, half-buried in sand old cargo ship she’d done everything in her power to fix up. Two years of living there, the longest she’d stayed anywhere. Really, Rey was proud of her little safe haven. It may have been dirty, and it looked like a pile of rusted wreckage from the outside, but inside, she felt safe.

Her bed was a hammock, strung up high from the ground and near the back wall. A table with a stool made out of a metal drum was off to one side, with her work table and bench off to the other. It wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t pretty, but it did the job. And it was hers.

With slow movements, Rey climbed into the hammock, pulling her blanket tightly around her and forcing herself to relax. Maybe another dream would come, maybe it wouldn’t. She hoped it wouldn’t. But one way or another, she needed to sleep.

_She is fourteen, and she is staring at the Mandalorian who just asked if she is a Jedi. The word alone sends blades of fear shooting up her spine, for her parents warned her of the Jedi, those terrifying warriors almost no one could defeat._

_She is fourteen, overcome with the memories of her mother teaching her to heal scrapes and bruises, but whispering warnings of her powers, making her_ promise _to keep them hidden from the entire galaxy._

_She is fourteen, listening to the ghost of her father’s voice tell exaggerated tales of knights in shining armor, the only ones who can face the magic-wielding warriors. He tells her to trust in that shining armor, to trust in its protection._

_She is fourteen, and she is staring at the Mandalorian who just watched her own heal her wrist._

With a shiver, Rey blinked awake, body cold. It wasn’t anywhere near the morning, but her body felt as though her blood had stopped circulating. Her hands and feet tingled with static, and she bit back a complaint as she tried to wiggle them to regain feeling. Her wrist ached with phantom pain she’d healed months ago.

The dream wasn’t pleasant, not exactly, but she’d had worse, especially lately. Rey’s whole life she’d been plagued by nightmares, but it wasn’t something she thought about. It was simple: she lead a difficult life at a young age, and that stress would cause anyone to dream up dread-ridden nightmares.

But ever since she met the Mandalorian that one, confusing day so many months ago, the dreams weren’t just worse, they were acutely realistic. Memories upon memories, things she never knew she forgot and some she wished she couldn’t remember, twisting into her skull. It caused more than one night like this, awake in her hammock, cold with a feeling she could not name until sleep finally reclaimed her poor, restless mind.

_She is eleven, staring down a Hutt big enough to squash her like a bug._

_But she doesn’t care. She just stares into those sunken, blood-shot eyes, refusing to obey. She does not care about the chain around her ankle. She has lived for too long in shackles._

_“You will let me go,” she says, and despite her frail voice, she does not waver. “You will not lock me up ever again.”_

_At her ankle, the shackle tears itself apart. The Hutt is silent, eyes clouded over. The Hutt is powerless._

_And then she is eleven, and she is free._

She woke up in a start, heart pounding.

Something was wrong.

Every hair on her body felt like it was standing on end, and Rey felt sick with tension.

She didn’t bother redoing her single braid, and since she slept in her clothes, was on her feet and out the door in a flash. Her small blaster was tucked in her belt, along with the dagger in her boot and the staff on her back. The quarterstaff was a dented and scraped hunk of metal, but it felt more natural than the blaster.

She made the walk to the outpost in barely fifteen minutes, half her normal speed.

At first glance, the outpost seemed normal. A caravan of Sand People was clustered in the center, squabbling over parts with some furry, purple-skinned traders in chrome jumpsuits. She could hear a creature barking and snarling from one of the alleyways between the buildings.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then, she noticed the stormtrooper hidden behind the cantina, and Rey’s blood ran cold.

The stormtrooper itself wasn’t exactly terrifying. Troopers were dangerous, but not skilled, or at least none of the few Rey encountered in the past were very skilled.

No, it wasn’t the trooper itself that was concerning. It was the fact the trooper wasn’t some beat up, backwater traitor. This trooper’s armor was polished, and the blaster it held looked straight from a battle battalion. (Or at least Rey imagined it did.)

It wasn’t the trooper that scared her. It was that this trooper looked like it was on active duty, and there was no good reason why an active duty trooper, why the _Empire,_ would be in the Niima Outpost.

Doing her best to appeal casual, she strode across the outpost center to the entrance of the cantina.

Inside were two more troopers, shiny white armor glinting in the low light. Behind them stood two officers clad in stiff grey.

Empire.

The officers turned in unison, eyes falling on her, and Rey didn’t even think. She just ran.

She ran out of the outpost gates, all the way back home. She ran using every ounce of strength and speed she possessed until her feet barely touched the ground as she flew over the sand.

She didn’t think before leaping onto her speeder bike and taking off. She didn’t need to look behind her to know there were two troopers on Imperial speeders chasing after her. 

_“But what about you and papa?”_

_“Oh, Rey… If only it were safe for you to know.”_

_“Why isn’t safe?”_

_“Because we must hide, we must not speak of who we were. For if anyone were to discover us, they would not rest until you were taken from my arms.”_

The speeder bike ran out of fuel ten minutes into her desperate attempt to escape. It sputtered, and before it could come to a stop on its own, she jumped off, landing squarely on both feet to face the troopers head-on.

Growing up alone in the Jakku desert taught Rey many things. It taught her not to blink when staring down older traders. It taught her to never flinch or waver. It taught her resilience. And it taught her that if she was ever going to survive, she needed to learn to fight.

Target practice was easy. Rey was good with a blaster, good at hitting rocks she placed at varying distances. She could even almost always hit rocks she threw high into the air and shot. But blasters needed ammunition, and ammunition came at a high price in such a remote place.

Her knife was deadly, dipped in a hard-earned, deadly poison, and she was fast and nimble when wielding it. She kept it razor sharp at all times, tucked into her boot and out of sight. But its radius stopped at her arm, and while she was strong, she wasn’t very large, and the blade failed her against multiple or larger opponents.

She found the staff barely a month ago, and though it was too large at first, it was easy to saw off one end and modify it to her size. After two weeks of practicing, she was confident in its ability, and really, she needed all the defense she could find.

The hum of the Imperial speeders drew nearer, and with it, Rey’s heart began to hammer as she focused intently. She forced herself to breathe slowly, trying to even out her pulse, but the adrenaline and fear were stronger.

Finally, the troopers were near enough to see through the haze of the desert heat, but Rey stayed her ground. She waited.

She waited, breathing slowly, her braid blowing in the hot, dry wind, sand slipping over the toes of her boots.

When she could see the trooper’s empty, helmeted gaze, she drew her blaster, holding it steady.

And when they were finally in range, she fired.

Seven shots, that was all she had time for. Four took down the trooper to the left, its speeder careening off to the side, forcing the trooper to fling itself to safety, rolling in the sand. But the second trooper dodged the last three, and Rey started to panic.

Before it finally reached her, she grabbed her quarterstaff, digging her feet into the ground with determination.

The speeder came screeching towards her, and at the last second, Rey leaped out of the way and swung the staff, hitting the trooper square in the chest. It fell backward, the speeder zipping out from under it and out of Rey’s sight.

She only had a few seconds before the troopers would recover, so she took off after the second trooper’s speeder. If she could just reach it, maybe she could escape. The troopers wouldn’t last out here in the desert, alone and unprepared.

The speeder biker was a handful of paces away from her when the blaster shot her in the calf. It burned through her pants and the pain caused her to cry out as she fell to one knee in the sand, clutching her staff.

She couldn’t give up.

Rey crawled forward, reaching for the speeder, but a hand grabbed the back of her tunic. With a snarl, she twisted around, aiming a kick directly at the stormtrooper's stomach, but the white armor stopped it. She writhed in the trooper’s grasp, hissing and spitting like a feral animal, until she felt a dull thud at the back of her head, and her body went limp.

_She is seven, and she is terrified, but her father told her to stay hidden, stay quiet. He will return, he said. He promised. So she stays hidden, wrapped in a dirty cloak and tucked away between storage containers on a cargo ship so large it feels like an entire planet._

_She does not make a sound as she watches the cargo bay doors close. Her father said he would return. He_ promised. _But she cannot remember how long ago that was._

_She is seven, and she is alone as the ship lifts into the sky, its destination a desert planet she’s never heard of, a promise from her father never fulfilled._

When she woke up, head aching, she only had a second to raise her head and get a gauge of her surroundings. Metal. All metal, dark and cold. White troopers on either side. The sound of an engine. Cuffs on both hands and feet.

And then she felt a cold pinch at her neck, and the world once again began to fade. Only this time, Rey fought it, she fought the darkness with every scrap of will power her body possessed.

_“The Mand’alor is your only defense against those that wish you harm,” says her father._

She couldn’t let it overtake her. She needed-

_“Skywalker,” says the Mandalorian. “He will help.”_

_Skywalker,_ her heart cried, cowering away from the threat of unconsciousness. The Mandalorian’s words hung heavy above her, and despite her fear, she voicelessly screamed to the stars:

_“Help me, Skywalker!”_

Then, barely breathing, she fell into blackness, dreamless and empty.

When she woke again, Rey knew a great deal of time had passed. At a glance, her surroundings weren’t all that different from the first time she woke up, but this time, she wasn’t knocked out again. The room looked more like a prison cell than the first, and the hum of the ship’s engine was much fainter, lower. If she had to guess, this ship was probably much, _much_ larger.

She blinked slowly, and when she tried to raise her hands to rub at her eyes, she remembered the cuffs and winced.

“Ah, you’re awake. Welcome, child.”

The voice was cold, empty, and distant. Rey glared up at the officer standing in front of her, his grey Empire suit stiff and dark. His hat shaded his pale eyes, casting dim shadows over his pale skin.

“You’ve been asleep for some time. Please, take a moment to adjust,” the officer said, a cruel smile curling his thin lips into a terrifying expression.

Rey glared at him, but still, did exactly that.

The room was nearly completely featureless. The walls were smooth, dark, and the ledge she was laying on was built directly into the floor and wall. It was cold, cold enough to make her shiver, especially since she was so used to the scorching desert.

The cuffs on her wrists and ankles tingled, some strange energy keeping her hands limp, unable to move. It felt like pins and needles, only a touch more painful. Try as she might, Rey couldn’t even move a single finger.

Her weapons were nowhere to be found.

“Your powers will be useless as long as you wear those,” the officer sneered, visibly pleased with himself. “No amount of trying to escape will end in your success.”

Rey stared at him, venom in her gaze.

“But I’m being rude,” the officer continued. “I know who you are, but that is not mutual.” He had the audacity to bow, and Rey almost wanted to spit at the top of his head. She didn’t. She needed to save her strength.

The officer gave her another sickly smile when he stood up again. “I am Admiral Karvin, and I do hope you will cooperate, or things might get _very_ messy.”

Rey thought about shooting back a snappy response, but she wasn’t actually sure what she was doing there. She could guess, but without certainty, she wasn’t ready to speak. Whoever this _Admiral Karvin_ was, she needed to be careful.

“What, no bite?” Karvin taunted her, stepping closer. Rey held her breath so she wouldn’t flinch. “It took so very long to locate you. Your dear parents were _so close_ to hiding you forever, but…” he looked down at her, head tilting to one side. It made her stomach turn. “My master sees all, even little runaway orphans.”

It was too much. Rey could bite her tongue so hard it bled to keep her words silent, but using her parents against her crossed the line. “What do _you_ know of my parents?” she hissed, leaning forward and hunching her shoulders as she stared at Karvin.

He barely reacted, merely narrowing his eyes as his empty smile widened imperceptibly. “More than you, I think.”

Rey lunged forward without thinking, swinging her cuffed hands at him with all her might. She hit Karvin’s shoulder, but it only made her wrists hit the inside of the cuffs with a painful bite, while Karvin simply stepped back, leaving her crouching low.

“I think we will continue this discussion... later.” With that, he left through the two thick sliding doors. Rey caught a glimpse of troopers outside, probably guarding her, before the doors snapped shut.

Slowly, she crawled back onto the ledge (bench?) and curled up on her side, holding her hands against her chest.

Now that she was alone, the situation started to fully wash over Rey.

She’d been captured by Stormtroopers, taken prisoner by the Empire, by some admiral who spoke of her parents with hostile familiarity. She was cuffed as if she was dangerous, locked in solitude.

Rey was tired. And scared. She tried not to be, but she couldn’t help it.

So she curled up even tighter, closed her eyes, and tried to picture home, like maybe if she imagined it hard enough, she’d wake up back in her hammock, nothing out of the ordinary.

**Soon, young one.** ****

The voice was like an electroshock to Rey’s entire body, and she woke with such a violent start she tumbled off the ledge she’d been curled up on.

In her entire life, none of her dreams or memories sounded so close, so _real._ But there was nobody there. She was alone, shivering in an Imperial prison cell.

Rey didn’t know how long they left her there. She tried counting the minutes, but when two hours of monotonous seconds passed, she gave up. She tried sleeping more, but was too tensed with dread and fear to relax. She even tried breaking or wiggling out of the cuffs, but her numb hands only ached as she pulled and tugged.

What did the Empire want with a barely teenage girl from a planet nobody cared about?

She thought of Karvin’s words, mentioning her _powers._

She thought of the Mandalorian, asking if she was a Jedi, if she could _move things with her mind._ Had he lied to her, when he spoke of the Jedi who might help her? Had he actually been an Imperial spy? Had every whisper in her heart telling her to trust the mysterious knight in dingy beskar armor been wrong?

But that was nearly six months ago. Why would the Empire wait so long to capture her, if it was the Mandalorian that found her and gave the Empire her location?

But that had to be it, right?

Her thoughts were interrupted by two troopers entering the room. She sat up quickly, giving them her best sullen expression, not moving as they unlocked and removed the cuffs on her ankles, but not the ones on her wrists.

“Move it, prisoner,” one of the troopers said, nudging her with the barrel of its blaster.

Reluctantly, she stood up. She briefly considered making a break for it, but instead, just followed the trooper out, the other one shadowing her footsteps.

As they walked down the corridor, Rey couldn’t help but marvel at the ship’s interior. It may have been ugly, cold, and foreboding, but it was so rare she got to see machinery in its prime; the mech she usually encountered was almost always closer to junk than anything else.

The troopers lead her down the long corridor, up an elevator, through another corridor that lead to a bridge over a massive hanger, full of activity.

Never in her life had she seen so many troopers, and never so many varieties. She watched a squadron loading into a small transport ship, moving in perfect synchronization. She watched a group of pilots readying to board their fighters, saw a fleet of small mouse droids go hurrying through the forest of shiny boots.

Rey’s mouth hung open as she looked around, nearly stumbling she was so distracted. But she didn’t have time to gawk for long. Her guards already hurried her along, into yet another elevator.

This one was much longer, and she shifted awkwardly, only the low rushing hum of the mechanism keeping her company. The troopers felt like empty shells.

Finally, after three more identical corridors, the troopers pushed her into a brightly lit sterile medical suite. There was a large chair in the middle of the room, decked out in shackles and attached to a table of instruments. A medical droid sat dormant in the corner, while two white-coated officers discussed something in hushed whispers in the other corner.

The troopers didn’t give her any time to ask questions, just grabbed Rey by the arms and shoved her unceremoniously into the chair. When they unlocked the cuffs, she gasped as feeling came rushing back into her palms and fingers.

“Hold still,” one of the trooper’s said, but Rey was not about to just give in. She yanked her arm away from the trooper, then kicked with her left foot, hitting the trooper in the shin. The second trooper reached for her, but Rey was fast, twisting out of its grasp and finally bolting. Maybe it wouldn’t last, but she had to _try._

Running down the corridor, she had no idea where she was going. Everything looked the same. At an intersection, she turned around wildly, but there were troopers coming from every direction. The sound of their footsteps on the smooth floor rattled Rey’s teeth, and she grit her teeth to stop herself from shaking.

She knew if they captured her again, she wouldn’t have a chance to escape.

The only time Rey could remember feeling this level of fear, she’d been half her age and crying out for her parents, whose faces she would never see again.

With a cry of frustration and desperation from some raw, raw part of her chest, Rey fell to her knees, slamming her palms down to the floor.

The effect was instantaneous.

The second her skin made contact with the smooth surface, it was like a force field exploded from her chest. It shook her entire body, but she stayed put, anchored to the floor by her own sheer will power.

Every single trooper running towards her went flying back, landing in disorganized piles of arms and legs and groaning helmets. There were even a few blaster shots fired, accidents turned friendly fire.

Rey’s vision swam, and every bone in her arms and hands felt like it was vibrating with residual energy.

“Get it together, capture the prisoner!” a trooper somewhere shouted, and Rey looked around frantically for an escape. The troopers might’ve been pushed back, but they weren’t pushed away.

She tried to stand, only for her legs to buckle, every muscle in her body failing her. By the time she’d pushed herself back up, there were three troopers on top of Rey, pinning her limbs and head down while another locked another pair of cuffs to her wrists, as well as a new pair to her ankles, these built to allow her to walk.

Even if she had the energy to fight, Rey knew she was trapped for good.

She didn’t exactly go quietly back to the chair in the medical suite, but she didn’t have enough fight in her to do any real damage. This time when they uncuffed her, a trooper held each of her limbs, while another held a blaster to her skull. She could only watch as they unwrapped her hands and pulled her gloves off, shoving her bare arms against the cold metal of the chair.

The chair’s cuffs covered her entire forearm, but not her hand, and strapped across her ankles and thighs. There were soft straps that crossed her chest and waist, and the troopers pulled them so tight Rey winced in pain.

“Don’t try any funny business,” one of the troopers threatened her, before all five stepped aside and lined up against the wall.

A hush fell over the room. Behind the chair, Rey could hear the officers in the white coasts still whispering to each other. The only other sounds were the low beeps and trills of the ship and computers and her own breathing.

When the door swished open, Rey wasn’t surprised to see Admiral Karvin.

She grimaced. He smiled.

“Running away isn’t going to do you any good, child,” he practically purred, walking a circle around her chair. His boots clicked against the shiny floor. “But your little display was rather fascinating. You’re more powerful than you let on, are you not?” By the time Karvin finished speaking, he was standing directly to Rey’s left, so close she could feel his breath on the shell of her ear.

“Get away from me, old man!” she snapped, turning her head as far as she could until she was nearly looking him in the eye.

“Your fighting spirit will only make this harder.”

Rey blinked, then spat directly into Karvin’s sallow face.

“Insolent child!” he shouted, and Rey’s head whipped in the opposite direction as his hand struck her cheek. “You will not last long. Sparks do not a wildfire make.”

Before she could respond, a nervous-looking officer entered the suite. When they hesitated, Karvin turned to face them with a dark expression. “Why are you interrupting me, lieutenant?”

The officer visibly gulped. “Sir, a Republic vessel just dropped out of hyperspace. They’ve already fired shots. It’s the- sir, you’re needed immediately on the bridge!” The words came out in a terrified jumble, but something in her chest began to pull.

She knew that pull, that little tug. It was the same feeling that pushed her to trust the Mandalorian, even if she only knew him for a day.

But before she could explore the sensation, Karvin sniffed, then turned to Rey, eyes locking with hers. Then, he looked behind her. “Get to work,” he said, voice low and terrifying. Then he was gone, the nervous officer following behind.

Too busy with Karvin, Rey had been too distracted to notice one of the officers in white sneaking up behind her, but when she began to attach a tube connected to a large machine to the left arm cuff, Rey started to panic.

“What‘s that do?” she asked, looking between this officer and the other, a tall woman with a high-ranking badge of some sort attached to her white coat.

Neither officer, or rather, neither _doctor_ spoke, no matter how intensely Rey stared at them. They worked in complete silence, attaching tubes to both arms and administering three shots in total to her neck.

She struggled with the cuffs, only for them to suddenly tighten, making her cry out in pain, squeezing her eyes shut. Then, the interiors of the cuffs felt impossibly cold and pinched, and when she looked down, blood was filling the tubes attached to the cuffs.

“N-no!” she yelped, once again struggling, which made the cuffs sting even more. “Stop it, let me _go!”_

There was only so much she could handle, and Rey passed that threshold when she woke up in an Imperial prison cell.

The doctors froze, and for a second, Rey thought maybe her pleas worked. Then a ship-wide alarm began to blare, loud and grating, the lights turning a vivid red to add an extra layer of alarm. And yet, despite the sense of dread the alarm spread, there was something creeping through Rey’s entire body, some presence, a wave of anticipation.

The doctors spoke something quickly in a language Rey couldn’t understand, and one of the troopers typed something into the door’s control panel; sealing it shut, Rey guessed, going off the extra thunk and hiss it made.

Then the stormtroopers lined up in front of the door, blasters held at the ready.

Rey stared as a spot on the door began to glow, as if something was burning it from the outside in. Then, in one slow, terrifying movement, a beam of light tore through the metal and pulled down, melting the thick door like it was nothing. The troopers shouted commands as it formed a square, then was yanked from the frame, pulled outwards into the corridor.

The sound of blaster fire joined the scream of the alarms, only to be interrupted by the clatter of every single blaster flying into the corridor and sliding across the floor into the opposite wall. The troopers rushed out to attack, only to be shoved by an invisible force, flying out of Rey’s field of vision.

The smoke and sparks of the melted door created the perfect frame for the shadowy figure to step through. Wrapped in a dark, billowing cloak, the hood made it impossible to see the stranger’s face, but still, Rey’s heart pounded.

She knew, by some undeniable feeling deep within her chest, that this was a Jedi, _the_ Jedi.

“Hello, young one,” the Jedi said. “I’m so sorry it took so long for us to meet.”


	2. chapter 2: safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Master Luke, Master Luke! Is she awake yet?” The voice came from outside the room through the open doorway, and a boy about Rey’s age came tearing into the room, visibly out of breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're back. this time w most of the gang!  
> rey and ben are SIBLINGS. reylos dni. im serious.

Rey knew who Luke Skywalker was. She knew about the golden-faced poster boy of the old Rebellion, knew how many bounty hunter’s hungered for the price on his head. She knew he was a flashy pilot. She’d even seen a holo of him once while spying in the cantina.

She’d known who she was crying for, in the empty black of her own mind.

The Jedi standing in the doorway was nothing like what she expected him to be.

He stepped forward, and both hands raised up to pull down his hood, revealing sandy hair and a surprisingly young face. He was dressed entirely in black, from the cloak to his dark tunic and pants to his shiny boots. A sword of glowing green light held in one gloved hand cast strange shadows against the fluorescents of the medical suite.

Rey stared into blue eyes, unable to speak.

For what felt like a small eternity, Rey and the Jedi stared at one another, an almost palpable static hanging in the air between them. Then the Jedi glanced down, as if only just noticing the cuffs and the tubes of blood and the doctors, cowering behind Rey’s chair.

“Let me help you out of that,” he said, raising his bare hand towards her. Rey flinched on instinct, which made the Jedi’s eyebrows pinch together in concern. “I won’t hurt you, it’s alright. Just hold still. It’s alright.” His hand hung in the air, fingers relaxed as if the Jedi was waiting for permission.

Slowly, Rey nodded her head, eyes wide and jaw clenched. The Jedi’s hand tightened into a fist, then splayed wide, fingers stretched and stiff.

With a clang, the shackles on both her ankles and wrists sprang open, despite the fact nothing, and nobody laid a finger on them. The Jedi’s outstretched hand relaxed again and lowered slightly, but stayed extended out towards Rey; an offering rather than an attack.

“Come with me,” the Jedi said, smiling so kindly it made Rey’s stomach flip. When was the last time anyone looked at her with such softness?

She pulled her hands free, rubbing her wrists carefully. “Why should I trust you?” She needed to ask the question, needed to put him on the spot to see what reason he would give. It didn’t matter that she knew who he was, or at least she was pretty sure. It didn’t matter that every cell in her being already trusted him; she needed the proof.

The Jedi stepped closer, the blade of the sword disappearing with a low, electric hum. “You don’t really have another option.” His gentle tone of voice did not match such dismal words. “We must leave now. We only have so much time before they send in much stronger reinforcements.”

That at least was a point Rey couldn’t argue. It was either sit here and wait to be recaptured, after everything she’d done to try and escape, or trust the Jedi.

She chose to trust the Jedi.

He offered her a helping hand out of the chair, but Rey ignored it, choosing to push herself up on her own strength. Everything ached; the blaster wound on her calf burned with heat, her wrists were sore, with two identical pin-prick points of red on each. That must’ve been where the hidden needles stabbed into her to steal her blood. Her legs shook as she stood, swaying, and almost fell over if it weren’t for the Jedi, who caught her.

“I can walk on my _own,”_ she snapped, but it still took a few tries to get her legs to work. Her head felt woozy, but she managed to stand straight, fists clenched at her sides.

After giving her a long look, the Jedi nodded once. “Alright. Follow close behind. My ship is not far off.”

As they exited the suite, Rey grabbed a blaster from the ground, then hurried along behind the Jedi’s billowing cloak. He activated the light sword again, and the sound and sight made Rey’s fingers tingle with nonspecific, static energy.

They went down the corridor quickly, Rey’s much shorter legs needing to work twice as hard to keep up with the Jedi. When they turned a corner and came head to head with a group of troopers, Rey raised her blaster with shaking hands, ready to try and fight them off.

She didn’t even have time to fire a single shot.

Moving faster than Rey could track with her eyes, the Jedi spun into an attack, slicing through the troopers without a moment of hesitation, the glowing sword humming with an electric, powerful energy. Rey could only stand, useless, as the Jedi took down every single trooper in what felt like mere seconds.

The smoldering remains of the troopers at his feet, he turned to Rey. “Come, we must hurry.” She couldn’t help but obey.

They continued on like that, the Jedi slicing down troopers by the dozen while Rey did her best to keep up. Finally, they reached the bridge across the hanger from earlier, and Rey stared down at the chaos below.

Gone were the organized squadrons and symmetrical lines of battleships. Now, in the center of the hanger, was a small Republic ship, visibly out of place with its pale body and red accents. Around it, scores of troopers lay dead or struggling to escape, the ground smoking in many places. There were a few still trying to take the ship down with their blasters, but they were picked off quickly by-

Rey gasped. _The Mandalorian,_ shining armor and all. He stood on the exit ramp of the ship, shooting down every single trooper that tried to come near.

It took all her effort to pull her focus away from the Mandalorian and eye the drop from the bridge to the hanger floor. “How are we supposed to get down there?” she asked, glancing to the Jedi.

“You’ll need to climb onto my back for this,” he said, already dropping down to one knee and turning away from her. “Trust me, young one,” he said, his voice the same gentle, soft tone again. After witnessing the destruction of the troopers by his hand, the soft tone was even more strange.

Rey eyed his back, looked down at the hanger below, then to the door they’d just exited. She could hear the sounds of more troopers coming their way, and she needed to make her decision _now._ So she climbed onto the Jedi’s back and clung to his neck with what little strength remained in her limbs.

In one smooth movement, the Jedi jumped straight off the bridge, over the safety railing, and they plummeted towards the ground. Rey couldn’t help but shriek with fear, burying her face in the Jedi’s hood and locking her arms and legs around him, expecting the landing to hurt. Instead, they landed more softly than should be possible. The second the Jedi’s feet touched the ground he started to run, keeping Rey on his back.

Rey kept her eyes squeezed shut as her body shook with each step, and only looked up when the sound of his footsteps shifted to a metallic clang. When she looked up again, she was inside the Republic ship, the Jedi sliding her off his back. He set her gently in a passenger seat, one of two on each side of the small ship’s interior. He started towards the cockpit, only to be interrupted by the Mandalorian entering the ship, the exit ramp closing behind him.

“You’re not piloting,” the Mandalorian said, stopping the Jedi before he could climb into the pilot’s seat.

“It’s my ship!” the Jedi protested.

The Mandalorian didn’t listen, already pushing the Jedi out of the way and taking the pilot’s chair. “It’s your sister’s ship. Look after the kid.” Apparently, that was the end of the discussion, because the next thing Rey knew, the ship was roaring to life and lifting up, up, and then they flew straight out of the hanger, the sounds of blasters chasing their tail.

The Jedi sighed, then sat in the chair opposite Rey.

She stared at him, dead silent.

“I didn’t really have the time to introduce myself,” he said, smiling that same gentle smile. “My name is-“

“Skywalker,” she interrupted, unable to help it.

The Jedi nodded.

She glanced towards the cockpit, curling in on herself. “The Mandalorian told me about you.”

That seemed to surprise the Jedi, and he blinked quickly. “It _is_ you.”

Rey narrowed her eyes at him, her shoulders hunching up towards her ears in feeble self-defense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The Jedi waved his hand dismissively but was still smiling, this time more excited than friendly. “I thought it might be you when I felt your call, but I wasn’t sure.” He glanced to the Mandalorian, then to Rey. “I’m so glad we were able to find you.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion finally setting in, or maybe it was too many unfamiliar things happening all at once, but suddenly, Rey felt very, very small, and very, very tired. She pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly and burying her face out of sight as muffled sobs wracked her body. She tried to hide them, tried to blink the tears away, but to no avail.

“Oh, little one…” the Jedi’s voice was soft, and closer to her, now.

When a warm hand rested on her shoulder, Rey flinched, recoiling away and falling off the chair onto the ground. She stared at the Jedi, eyes wild and teary, unable to get any words past the lump in her throat.

He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She swallowed.

“This must be so confusing for you,” he said, more to himself than to Rey.

She sniffled, then slowly climbed back into the chair, folding her knees to her chest once again but keeping her eyes on the Jedi, who also returned to his seat. “Where… where are we going?” she finally managed to ask, though her voice was rough and the words felt like sand in her mouth.

“Yavin IV,” said the Jedi. “The Empire won’t be able to reach you there, I promise. It’s hidden, it’s safe.”

Rey didn’t know of Yavin IV, and was too tired to care. A small part of her just wanted to go home, back to Jakku, back to warm sand and burning skies and her little safe haven. But she didn’t have it in her to argue with or persuade the Jedi.

“You should rest. We won’t be there for a few hours,” he said.

Rey wasn’t sure if she could sleep in such an unfamiliar environment, and as she glanced around, the Jedi noticed.

“You’re safe. I promise, nothing bad will happen to you as long as you’re under my protection.”

There was that pull in her chest again, curling warmth that whispered nothing but safety when she looked at the Jedi. She glanced to the Mandalorian in the pilot seat, remembering the natural trust he made her feel the last time she’d seen him. She remembered her mother’s words, telling her of the dangers of those that wielded the Force. She thought of her father, of the tales of knights in unbreakable armor, the only protection in this galaxy against the most powerful of evils.

And she looked down at her hands, shaking and pale, at the bruises already blossoming across her skin.

She was too tired to fight. She was only a child, and she didn’t know how to handle everything that had happened to her up until that point.

So she crossed her arms over her knees, rested her aching head on her forearms, and slowly let sleep overtake her. And for the first time in months, not a single dream or nightmare or voice or fragmented memory disturbed her slumber.

“When’s she gonna wake up? She’s been sleeping for ages!”

“She’ll sleep until she’s ready, Ben.”

“But this is _boring._ Everyone’s _asleep.”_

“Why don’t you go see if the twins are awake, then?”

The first voice sounded like a child, and that in itself was baffling. There weren’t many children in the outpost other than Rey, and those that did pass through were either slaves or the children of traders. She rarely, if ever, spoke to them, so it was strange, hearing someone her age.

 _“Ugh,_ fine,” the child groaned, and Rey listened to small, quiet footsteps disappearing.

Then, silence, except for the barely-there sound of someone breathing.

Waking up was slow for Rey. Her body still ached in more places than she felt like counting, but more than that, her head felt _foggy,_ like her thoughts were moving in slow motion. Still, she tried to push her way through the haze, reaching for consciousness blindly.

A small eternity seemed to slip by, but finally, _finally,_ she opened her eyes.

It took even longer for her eyes to adjust, but as her vision slowly came into focus, Rey began to glance around.

She was in a bed in a small room, the walls made of similar smooth, sandy-colored clay as the buildings back home. To her right, there was a window through which she could see the bluest slice of sky her eyes ever lay upon. Next to her bed and pushed against the wall was a small table, with some strange, light green leaves stuck in a clay jar resting next to an empty plate of crumbs. The blankets covering her were dark blue and green woven together, and when she twitched her fingers against them, she could barely feel the fibers they were so soft.

Slowly, she turned to look towards her left and met the Jedi’s gaze from where he was sitting next to her on a wooden stool. Behind him was a doorway but no door, just an arched opening in the smooth wall.

“Welcome back, young one,” he said, that same smile that was nearly unsettling when surrounded by the destruction he caused on the Imperial ship.

When Rey tried to speak, her throat protested, and all that came out was a pathetic wheeze.

Quickly, the Jedi reached over to another small table on the left side of her bed, grabbing a cup with his gloved hand and offering it to Rey. She took it, gulped it down quickly, and handed it back.

Slowly, _painfully,_ she pushed herself up into a sitting position, leaning against the pillows and the head of the bed.

“Easy there,” the Jedi hushed, and Rey was grateful when he didn’t reach out to stop her. There’d been a lot of people reaching for her and grabbing her lately, and it was jarring, coming from such a solitary life. Her skin still crawled when she remembered Karvin’s voice so close to her ear.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the same child’s voice from earlier.

“Master Luke, Master Luke! Is she awake yet?” The voice came from outside the room through the open doorway, and a boy about Rey’s age came tearing into the room, visibly out of breath. He wore a tunic similar to the one the Jedi wore, only his was light brown instead of black, tied with a dark belt.

The Jedi- Skywalker, Rey tried to think, turned to smile at the boy, nodding. “Yes, she is. But she’s still very tired, so she might still need some time and space.”

The boy completely ignored him and came right up to the side of Rey’s bed.

“Hi there,” he said, peering at her with big, dark eyes and a toothy grin. His hair was dark and wavy, hanging in front of his eyes. He blew one strand away with a puff of breath, then said, “My name’s Ben. What’s yours?”

Rey just stared at him.

“Ben, she’s still waking up. Maybe give her some more time?” The Jedi, Skywalker, seemed more amused than scolding, placing his bare hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Ben groaned, and his expression of dramatized and visibly false anguish almost made Rey smile. It was strange, watching this child act so… carefree. It made her chest hurt.

After a silent staring contest between Skywalker and the boy, Ben, the boy gave in, and trudged out of the room slowly, shoulders slumped. Then, Skywalker turned to Rey.

“What _is_ your name, young one?” he asked, watching her with a careful, curious gaze, hands in his lap.

Rey blinked, looking down at her hands. Nobody had asked her name in years.

“Rey,” she said, after a long, long pause. “My name is Rey.”

Skywalker smiled, pleasant warmth washing through Rey as he did. “It’s good to meet you, Rey.”

Eventually, Skywalker left, only to return with a plate of strange foods and a cup of a steaming drink. He set them on the table to her left, then left her alone. Rey was grateful for that.

She leaned over to grab the plate and cup, her hair falling in her eyes, and she only then realized someone must’ve undone her braid. She glanced around, looking for something to put it back up with, but couldn’t find anything. With a huff, she tucked it behind her ears and tried to ignore it. Rey never wore her hair down, too worried it would get caught on something or tangled, but maybe just this once, she’d let it slide.

When she sipped the drink, she tasted spicy sweetness, almost too powerful for her palate. She was used to bland food meant to restore energy, not eaten for taste. But the drink warmed her all the way down to her toes, and she gulped down another mouthful, only to be interrupted by her stomach growling.

When was the last time she’d eaten? The morning the stormtroopers captured her? No, she’d yet to find something then… the night before? She couldn’t remember.

Carefully, she grabbed the plate and set it on her lap on top of the blanket, eyeing the unfamiliar food. The bread looked normal enough, at least, though much paler than what she was used to, and when she poked it, it was _squishy._ It was covered in something greasy and golden that tasted vaguely warm when she licked some off of her finger.

There was a small bowl of soup, as well as some slices of a bright yellow fruit she didn’t recognize. And the soup wasn’t just broth; when she stirred it with her finger, she could see soft chunks of vegetables and even meat.

And _oh_ the smell… It smelled so rich and so warm, Rey’s mouth was watering just looking at it.

She didn’t waste another moment of inspection, already lifting the small bowl to her mouth and gulping it down, not even bothering to chew. She finished it quickly, then wiped the last bite up with the bread, and crammed the fruit slices into her mouth with the bread.

It was the best food she’d ever tasted.

Rey set the plate and bowl aside, then grabbed the cup. As she sipped the warm drink, another figure stepped into the room.

“Good to see you’re doing alright,” said the Mandalorian, one hand resting on the doorway. She eyed him, curious but wary. (But mostly curious.)

“Is there more food?” It was all she could think to say.

The Mandalorian huffed a laugh and nodded. “It’s way better than the stuff on Jakku, I’ll bet.” He stepped inside, but still gave her space as he came closer to grab the plate and small bowl.

Rey nodded, almost smiling. The mention of her home sent a small stab through her heart, but she tried to ignore it.

“I’ll go find you some more.” The Mandalorian gave her another look, dipped his helmet, then disappeared from the doorway.

Rey tried to wait patiently, she really did. But when the Mandalorian came back, this time with a larger bowl of soup and twice as much bread and fruit, she couldn’t help it when she leaned forward with eager excitement.

He set the plate and bowl directly on the bed, and Rey pulled them closer immediately, mumbling her thanks. When he stepped off to the side but didn’t leave, she was already shoveling more of the soup into her mouth, this time with the small wooden spoon provided.

By the time half the soup, almost all the bread, and half the fruit was gone, Rey’s stomach finally caught up to her hunger, and she slowed down to just nibbling on the last bite of bread.

The Mandalorian was still standing off to the side, near the door but visibly watching her.

She fidgeted with a loose string in the blanket. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, not exactly, but now that she was more awake and her appetite sated, her curiosity was starting to burn.

“Is… Is Ben your son? The one you said the Jedi teaches?” She could only remember the Mandalorian’s words because they seemed so _strange_ at the time. Then, the Jedi were still just myths and half-faded memories, even the name forgotten in her mind. When she’d learned the Mandalorian trusted some ruthless sorcerer with his son, Rey thought it sounded impossible.

Now, after only a few hours of knowing Skywalker, it seemed… well, not possible.

But the Mandalorian shook his head. “No. Ben is the Senator’s kid. Mine is younger, sort of.”

“Sort of?” Rey wrinkled her nose in confusion.

“You’ll see. They’re both eager to properly meet you.”

The idea of meeting even _more_ new people was almost too much, but Rey was already feeling better by the second. She still hurt all over, and the thought made her push the blankets off to inspect her body.

The blaster wound on her calf was bandaged with soft, white gauze, but it still burned, though less acutely. Her wrists sported twin rings of bruising, especially dark around the dual-pin pricks on each.

She knew what she needed to do, and Rey was _pretty_ sure she had enough energy to do it.

Eyes closed, she pressed her right palm into her left wrist, rubbing the skin in slow, slow circles. The pain was low-level, but she hated the reminder of the horrible cuffs and the chair and the tubes of her own blood. These memories all swirled together in her mind, but she furrowed her brow and pushed them away. She focused, holding her breath, then finally exhaled after a long moment.

When she opened her eyes to inspect her work, the bruising and the pin-pricks were gone. She smiled, small and proud and just for herself, then closed her eyes and repeated the process again with her other wrist.

After both wrists were done, Rey started to unwrap the white gauze around her leg, only to be stopped by a gloved hand.

“Why don’t you give yourself some time before working on that injury, alright?” Skywalker’s voice was low and sounded, if she didn’t know better, almost amazed.

She hadn’t even realized he came back into the room. When she looked up, she saw the Mandalorian in the same position as before, but this time, the boy was standing next to him, holding a small, green creature in a miniature version of his brown tunic robes. The creature’s eyes were even bigger than Ben’s, and it had the biggest, green, pointed ears Rey had ever seen on such a small thing.

“When I heard of your affinity for healing, I was amazed. To see it in action…” Skywalker’s voice pulled Rey’s focus back to him. He stood beside the Mandalorian opposite from Ben, watching her with unabashed wonder. “You’re quite something, Rey.”

She just shrugged, trying to come off as neutral, like it didn’t matter that much to her. “It’s just something I do.”

Skywalker laughed, shaking his head. “Yes, of course. Still, you should be proud of such a strength.”

Rey wanted to brush it off, but the praise meant more to her than she could admit, even to herself.

A strange trilling noise made her look up in alarm, only to see it was the little green creature, its ears perked up as it stared at her. Rey stared back.

“Can Grogu come sit on the bed?” asked Ben, taking a step towards Rey. “He won’t get too close!”

Rey squinted at the little creature. It didn’t _look_ dangerous. It was kind of cute, in a strange way. Its eyes were a little too big, and its scrunched up face was peculiar, but still, something about it made her want to smile, or even hug the thing.

She nodded.

Ben practically jumped to the end of her bed, then carefully set the little green creature on the foot of her bed. Immediately, the creature came crawling towards her, already halfway up her leg before the Mandalorian swept it up in his arms.

“Not too close, kid,” he said, then tried carefully setting the creature back down again. But this time, he kept one gloved hand curled protectively around the little thing. The creature looked up at him, cooing some form of gibberish, then looked to Rey, its ears drooping.

Rey eyed the odd combination of people, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make sense of it. Who were these people, that let a child run around as he pleased, that had a weird little green pet, that fed her bread so soft she could fit a whole piece in her mouth? Why did they bring her here? Why did they care for her, smile at her, ask her for her name?

The odd group stared at her, and Rey squirmed under their heavy gazes. She needed a distraction, something to pull the focus away.

As if sensing her discomfort, the little green creature babbled up at the Mandalorian, gesturing with one tiny, three-clawed hand. Skywalker and the boy looked at the creature like they understood what it was saying, which confused Rey even _more_.

“What is that thing?” she finally asked, fed up with not knowing. “Is it a pet?”

Ben burst into giggles, making Rey glare at him. But that didn’t stop him.

“This is Grogu,” Skywalker said, reaching down to lift the creature into his arms. The Mandalorian stepped to the side easily, like it was natural. Skywalker cradled the creature with one arm, while the thing trilled and cooed at him. “He is a student here, just like Ben.”

Rey stared at him, then laughed in disbelief. “Isn’t he kind of young?” Despite the fact she didn’t know what the creature was, it at least seemed like it was, at best, a toddler, maybe even younger.

“Actually,” said Skywalker, his eyes twinkling, “Grogu is the oldest one here. But his species matures at a much slower rate compared to us Humans.”

Rey eyed the creature, _Grogu_ , then looked over to the Mandalorian, remembering his words from earlier. “Is that your son?” She pointed to Grogu with one shy hand, but her voice was determined and her eyes sharp.

The Mandalorian nodded.

“Does that mean you’re all... green and stuff? Under the helmet?”

This time, both Ben _and_ Skywalker burst into laughter, Skywalker patting the Mandalorian’s armored shoulder with his gloved hand. The Mandalorian did not laugh.

Still chuckling, Skywalker shook his head. “Except for Grogu, all of us here are Human.”

Rey shifted, still looking between them all. “You people don’t make sense,” she muttered.

This time, it was the Mandalorian that huffed a quiet laugh. “You’ll adjust, kid. Don’t worry.”

Skywalker gave the Mandalorian a fond look, then turned back to Rey. “Maybe after you’ve rested, we can talk some more?” She wasn’t sure what he wanted to talk about, but Rey was beginning to realize just how many questions _she_ had for _him_.

She nodded, and smiled as little, and waited till everyone had filed out of the room before laying back down. She wasn’t nearly as tired anymore, and the room was small with little to keep her occupied.

A breeze through the window caught Rey’s attention, and she sat back up. She couldn’t see anything other than the sky. Slowly, carefully, she swung her legs off the bed. The floor was smooth, made of wood, and sturdy underneath her feet. Her calf still burned, but whether it was her wrists being healed or the food, the pain wasn’t enough to distract her.

Now, Rey noticed she was just in her socks, and she wondered where her boots went. She checked under the bed and sighed in relief when she found them there. She had to stretch her arm to reach them, but she still managed to tug them out, then pull them on.

When she finally stepped over to the window, Rey’s heart stopped. Outside, stretching from whatever building she was in, was a grassy field, lush and green and _beautiful_. At the edges of the field began the forest, or jungle, or _whatever_ it was. Rey could see vines and bushes crawling all over and between the trees, with more hanging from their twisted limbs.

It was so lush, so incredible, that the sight of it made her eyes fill with tears. But she blinked them away rapidly, and made up her mind: she was going to find a way out of the building and into that field.

First, she peered out the door and looked around. The room lead to a short hallway, with moor open doorways lining the wall; a total of ten, Rey counted. To her right, the hallway ended in a wooden door. To her left, it turned, but she couldn’t see around the bend.

She decided to trust her get, and went with the left.

Her boots made soft, hushed taps against the wood floor as she crept down the hall. Her room was the third from the turn in the hallway, and when she peered into the other rooms, noticed they were suspiciously empty, save for bed frames and small tables to match her room.

The bend in the hallway lead to a large, open room, empty and spacious. The walls on either side were lined with windows, letting sunlight stream in and give the whole room a warm glow. Rey didn’t take the time to inspect what objects were scattered against the walls, noticing only a pile of off-white robes and some wooden quarterstaffs lined against one wall.

She ran straight across the room and pushed open the heavy, wooden door.

Outside the building was another grassy field, framed with the same thick, tangled forest. Rey didn’t even think. She ran straight for the grass and went tumbling down into it, ungraceful and _happy_. It was cool against her bare arms and neck, and she rolled onto her back and splayed out her arms and legs, just like she’d do in the sand at night back home.

The sky above was just as blue from here, maybe even more so. It somehow felt smaller than the desert sky, held together and framed by the tops of the trees. The clouds were large and fluffy, nothing like the usual haze of the desert or the occasional thunderstorm.

Rey closed her eyes and wondered, for just a brief moment, if she would be allowed to stay in that field forever.

Her moment of peace was interrupted by, once again, Ben. A shadow passed over her, and when she opened her eyes, it was to those overly wide, dark ones staring directly down at her.

“What do you want?” she asked, holding the eye contact even if it made her shift uncomfortably. People in the desert knew not to stare for too long; apparently, that rule didn’t apply here.

Ben blinked, then stood back, only to sit down cross-legged next to her. “Master Luke said to leave you alone because you needed rest, but you’re out here, so does that mean I don’t have to leave you alone anymore?”

Rey’s head spun over the words. This boy was so _weird_. She sat up so she wasn’t below him, and noted with a small amount of satisfaction that sitting like this, she was noticeably taller.

“Maybe I want to be alone in this field.”

Ben seemed to consider that, like it hadn’t even been an option in his mind. “Maybe, I guess. Do you?”

Rey stared at him, then around the field, then sighed. “I guess it’s fine if you stay. But I’m laying back down. _Don’t_ disturb me.”

Ben seemed delighted at that, and was quiet as Rey lay back down, crossing her arms below her head like a pillow and closing her eyes.

At first, she thought Ben was going to leave her alone. But he lasted all of maybe five minutes before breaking the peaceful calm.

“How old are you?”

The question made Rey’s eyes snap open, the beginnings of a glare already pulling at her face.

“Where’re you from?”

Rey continued to ignore him.

“What’re your parents like?”

She wanted to snap at him. She wanted to tell this nosey boy to just leave her alone, but despite how much of a pest he was, she couldn’t do it. He was just too happy for her to snap at him, or tell him off. There was no malice in his questions; only genuine, pure, innocent curiosity.

Rey made a choice.

“Fourteen. Jakku. And I don’t know.” Giving away personal information, even something so simple, felt painfully vulnerable.

But Ben only grinned. “I’m eleven, and I’m from Coruscant! I go home and live there in winter. Have you ever been to Coruscant?”

Rey shook her head.

“It’s really busy. Mom always has to dress up there, and makes me dress up too.” He sighed, holding his shins in both hands as he rocked back and forth ever so slightly. “I like living here better, though. Especially in summer, cause Mom gets to stay too!”

Rey’s chest constructed for just a moment, her heart limping over a beat. “What’s your mom like?” The words felt thick, edged with jealousy she tried so hard to fight.

“Mom’s queen of the _entire_ galaxy! Well, not really, she’s actually just a Senator, but Dad says she’s basically the queen.” He paused, glancing down at Rey like he was double-checking she was listening. He spoke with his hands, open and expressive. “Dad is the coolest pilot in the galaxy, and he has the fastest ship in existence! He says maybe one day he’ll even let me fly it! Although, I’m not a very good pilot....” Ben trailed off but dove back in as fast as he stopped talking. “Do you have any siblings?”

The question caught her off guard. She’d become lost in his excited words, these images of parents he so obviously loved. She burned with jealousy, but she wouldn’t let him see it.

She did her best to recover, but there was still a too-long pause before she answered. “I don’t. Do you?” At least shooting questions back at him was an easy way to kill time.

Ben nodded eagerly. “I do now! The twins are only a few months old, so they’re too little to play, but I’m gonna be the best big brother ever.” He puffed out his chest with pride, his comical expression enough to make Rey snicker.

Before Ben could ask her any more questions, they were interrupted by the Mandalorian, a looming shadow against the bright sky.

His presence made Rey push up and mirror Ben’s crossed legs position.

“Aren’t you missing afternoon meditation?” he said, pointing the question at Ben. The boy stiffened, then jumped up hastily.

Before he ran off, he turned to say to Rey, “Let’s talk more at dinner!” Then he was off, running away and out of sight, and Rey didn’t bother to watch him go.

The Mandalorian stood beside her for a moment, but turned to leave. When he got only a few paces away, she stood up, stepping after him.

“Do you-“ she started, then stopped, then tried again. “Do you live here, too?”

The Mandalorian turned to her, helmet as secretive as ever. “Sometimes.”

She shifted from foot to foot. “What about your son?”

The Mandalorian sighed, though it was nearly small enough to go unnoticed. “He lives here, yes. It’s part of his training.”

Rey nodded, thinking. “Do they want _me_ to live here?”

The Mandalorian gave her a long, silent look. “Only if you want to.”

Rey wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she let him turn away and leave properly this time. She watched him disappear around the building, cape blowing slightly in the breeze, armored footsteps surprisingly quiet in the grass.

 _Did_ she want to stay? The idea wasn’t almost too big to consider, so she didn’t. Instead, Rey lay back down in the grass, stared up at the sky, and let herself get lost in the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna be real w u chief, i put the twins in this purely out of spite. they dont need to be here. theyre grubs, theyre not important to the story. but i resent the sequel trilogy for standing where they (and ani jr) stood. 
> 
> tumblr is [4hoots](https://4hoots.tumblr.com/). sigh. OR my cringe sideblog for 90% star wars stuff is. [mychemicalraymond](https://mychemicalraymond.tumblr.com/). dooont worry about that name.
> 
> see yall again tomorrow :)


	3. chapter 3: stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then why am I here?”   
> Skywalker smiled, placid and peaceful. “You called for me, so I came.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we’re BACK happy bday to me here’s some lovely domestic bliss
> 
> im so sorry that i cannae write group dialogue 

She spent the rest of the afternoon in the grass.

In the desert, plants were few and far between, and the ones that could exist in the harsh climate were nothing like the lush foliage here. The faint memories of a domed garden was the last time Rey could remember seeing this much green, but the memory was more a feeling than anything else.

Later, she knew she would need to start figuring out what she was going to do next. But for just a little while, she let herself relax in the field, let the tension and worry and dread slowly filling her stomach bleed into the soft earth.

When Ben came to tell her it was dinner time, she was drowsy and as content as she’d been in a long time.

Apparently, dinner was a group affair. Ben led her around the building, along the same grassy path the Mandalorian disappeared down.

On this side of the building was what looked like a make-shift landing pad, with the same ship the Mandalorian flew them in, as well as a beat-up X-Wing and shiny Republic shuttle resting side by side in a neat line. A little ways away, there were two small houses, with the same clay walls and thatched roof she noticed on the first building.

Ben lead her to the closer of the two houses.

The small house seemed to be built for one, maybe two occupants, not the six, including herself and Ben, now inside. Inside was a busy mess of people, chatting and laughing together at a round, wooden table. There was a large bowl of what looked like the same soup she’d eaten earlier, as well as a few other bowls of things like leafy greens and more bread and a strange mixture of nuts and dried fruit.

The Mandalorian sat nearest the door, still in his full armor, with Grogu, the little green thing, perched on one knee. Skywalker sat next to him, talking to Grogu and smiling brightly, while an unfamiliar woman with a fancy, braided up-do watched them with a fond expression.

Ben ran straight to the woman, who caught him in a hug then gently pushed him onto the stool next to her. On the woman’s other side, between she and Skywalker, was a small, hovering bed, inside which slept two tiny humans, the tiniest she’d ever seen. The woman leaned over to check on them, then sat back at the table.

Rey hovered by the door, unsure what to do. This was so obviously a family event, these people so close and tightly knit. She’d seen it before when she was in bed, watching Skywalker and the others interact, but now, the feeling was almost too much.

“You can come in and sit,” said the Mandalorian, interrupting her thoughts. He must’ve turned towards her when she was looking at everyone else. He gestured to the stool to his left, in between his seat and Ben’s.

Skywalker was already standing, grabbing the bowls set in front of everyone and ladling the soup into them with a large, wooden spoon. There was _so_ much wood here.

Silently, Rey slipped inside and took her place at the table. The second she sat down, Ben was already scooting his stool closer, once again staring at her expectantly. He opened his mouth, and Rey could _feel_ the barrage of questions he was about to dump on her.

“Ben, let Rey eat dinner in peace, alright?” the woman with the fancy hair interrupted him, and he sighed, visibly deflating and sitting back. The woman smiled at Rey as she handed Ben a slice of bread, offering one to Rey as well. She took it as the woman continued speaking. “We haven’t had the chance to meet yet. I’m Leia, Ben’s mother.” 

Rey blinked, remembering that Ben said his mother was… a Senator… Rey might’ve been from the middle of nowhere, but she knew who _Leia Organa_ was. Her surprise must have been obvious, because suddenly, Ben was right up in her face, waving a hand in front of her nose.

“Hello? Ground to Rey?”

Rey’s eyes snapped to him, then slowly crawled back to his mother.

Ben giggled through a mouthful of bread. “Everybody always looks like that at mom,” he said, already sitting back on his stool. “Even Master Djarin was kinda impressed when they first met! At least, that’s what Master Luke says.”

Rey blinked, looking at Ben in confusion. “Master… Djarin?” Was there another Jedi the Mandalorian didn’t tell her about?

“Master Djarin is Grogu’s dad. The Mandalorian?” Ben just stared at her like it was obvious, then glanced to the Mandalorian, the only one besides Rey who wasn’t eating. In his lap, the green creature stuffed his face full of what looked like pieces of dried meat.

Somehow, since the first time she’d met the Mandalorian, she’d never considered he might have a _name._

“Ben,” Senator Organa (Rey couldn’t think of her as anything else) chided, giving her son a stern look. “Let her eat.”

Ben was obviously about to complain when the Mandalorian interjected. “Why don’t you tell everyone about your training today?”

That seemed to be enough of a distraction, and Ben finally sat back and ignored Rey. He began telling a dramatic story that seemed to be about the Mandalorian teaching him a sparring technique, but was somehow interjected with a million other details.

Finally, Rey turned her attention to her food and picked up her spoon carefully. She ate slowly, trying to show manners she didn’t have. She might have been sitting at a strange table on a strange, green planet with a Jedi Master, a Mandalorian, and a Senator of the Republic, but she was still just a girl from the desert.

After Ben finished his exaggerated tale, Skywalker and Senator Organa discussed something about a visit to a temple or alter or something, but really, Rey wasn’t paying attention. Ben poked her with some questions, but nothing very interesting, and by the time the meal was over he was yawning and mostly just poking at his empty bowl. Rey, too, realized she was starting to drift off.

The conversation slowly died out, and the adults started collecting the bowls and stacking them carefully. Senator Organa kissed Skywalker on the cheek, Ben hugged him and Grogu and sleepily bowed to the Mandalorian, then followed his mother out the door, feet dragging. The little bed with the two babies followed them out.

Rey stood too, ready to go back to her room, but Skywalker turned to her. “Ben is very excited you’re here. We all are, but he especially. He doesn’t get to play with many children his age.”

She stopped, hugging her arms to her chest and imagining the excitable kid’s grin, his questions, following her around like a lost animal. “He’s kind of chatty,” she said, not unkindly.

Skywalker laughed, stepping around the Mandalorian, who was still seated and cradling a now-sleeping Grogu in his arms silently, to take Rey’s bowl. “Yes, that he is.” He set the bowls all together in a sink in the back of the room, then came back to sit at the table. Slowly, Rey sat back down too.

“But he only wants to welcome you here,” Skywalker continued, clasping his hands together. “We all want you to feel comfortable here, you know.”

Rey shifted, twisting her hands in her lap. There it was, that implication that they… wanted her to stay. She glanced between Skywalker and the Mandalorian, who seemed to be paying attention even if he said so little.

“I don’t… I don’t really understand why I’m here,” she said. She hated how small her voice sounded. “Is it because of my powers? Or because of when I saw the Ma- um.” She paused, then stared at the Mandalorian and aimed the question at him, instead of having to decide what to call him. “Is it because of when I saw you?”

The Mandalorian shook his head, then nodded to Skywalker, who spoke.

“Yes and no. I want to help you with your abilities, but only if you want it.” He looked to the Mandalorian, expression unreadable, then back to Rey. “And you being here doesn’t have anything to do with you two meeting all those months ago.”

“Then why am I here?” Now she spoke to Skywalker, trying to stare him down. She doubted it worked very well.

Skywalker smiled, placid and peaceful. “You called for me, so I came.”

Despite the fact Rey _knew_ that it was still strange to think about.

During the months between first meeting the Mandalorian and now, she’d thought long and hard about his words, no matter how vague they were. She might’ve been young, and her memories clouded for so long, but those months had been spent doing everything she could to piece together her own life.

She knew she could heal herself. She knew she was far more persuasive than a girl her age should be able to be. She knew that sometimes, she could tell when a person was lying, but she could never explain why.

She remembered the moment on the Imperial ship, with stormtroopers in every corner of her vision, the fear and terror and desperation that lead to her palms against the floor.

She thought of her mother, whispering, “ _Beware the warriors of the Force, my love.”_

She thought of the voice that woke her up in the prison cell, and realized, with a start, whose voice that was.

“You… came. Because I called for you,” she mumbled, staring at Skywalker.

He nodded. “I did.”

Rey bit the inside of her cheek, looking down at her lap. She remembered reaching for arms no longer there, remembered watching the backs of the only people she’d ever loved; remembered nights alone, crying for parents she would never see again.

“Can I go to my room?” Rey asked, suddenly overwhelmed under the weight of two gazes resting on her, judging her every reaction.

Luke nodded quickly. “Of course. Do you need help finding your way back?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” Without saying anything else, she got up and made a line straight for the door. One foot out, she paused, turned around.

“Do I have to decide immediately if I want to stay?”

Skywalker shook his head, a small, gentle movement. “You’ll know when you’re ready. Do not feel rushed. I promise we will not push you to stay or go.”

She lingered for a beat, then finally left, jogging down the grassy path and back to her room, head spinning with too many thoughts as she crawled into bed without bothering to take off her boots.

_She stands at a giant, crystal-clear window, looking down at endless spires and buildings, ships of all makes and models zipping in tight lines. The room is full of smooth contours and soft comfort, her safest place._

_“We’ll be leaving soon, Ben,” says her mother, and though it pains her to pull away, she turns from the window and skips over to her, grabbing her mother’s white cape._

_“Is dad coming with us this time?” she says, but her mother shakes her head._

_“No, not this time. But next time, oka-“_

**Hey!** ****

Rey scrambled out of bed in a fright, looking around frantically. Where was- who was- what was happening-

The cool breeze through her window brought Rey back to the present.

Right. She was in a strange bed, surrounded by strange people, on a strange, green planet.

She shook herself, trying to get rid of the odd, disconnected feeling in her chest. For a second, she’d been- not herself. What was that? The dream was already fading, the sharp voice lost to the distortion of the night shadows.

This place was starting to get to her, maybe, she thought as she climbed back into bed. That or her body was more stressed than she’d accounted for. Either way, she needed to sleep. She needed to recharge, and tomorrow, she needed to get some answers.

_She is small, small and full of fear, but the little ball in her hands is warm from her_ buir’s _gloves, and his visor is the only thing worth looking at._

 _“You’re… very special, kid,” he says, and he is so sad, but she can’t_ help _him. She doesn’t understand why._

When she sat bolt upright again, it wasn’t because of any voice, just a sharp, questioning jab at her mind. It didn’t hurt, but it was _strong,_ and it made her look around the room in sleepy confusion.

But… the room was empty. Silent. No, wait. In the distance, she could hear something, but she wasn’t sure what. It sounded almost like lightning, or the clang of metal against metal.

Since Rey knew she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep, she slipped out of bed and crept down the hall, glancing around for any sign of life every step she took. When she reached the doorway outside, she opened it only a crack, peering through into the night.

The source of the noises was Skywalker and the Mandalorian in the field, head to head in what looked like a deadly duel. Skywalker held the same green sword from her rescue, and the Mandalorian was holding a similar weapon, but the blade was made of a confusing contradiction of black and white.

She watched as the Mandalorian swung the blade at Skywalker, who blocked it with a flourish, then dodged under the Mandalorian’s armored swing when it came towards him. He was about to aim a kick at the Mandalorian’s back, but before Skywalker’s foot landed, the Mandalorian twisted, grabbing Skywalker’s ankled boot and yanking him off his feet.

Skywalker, surprisingly, only stayed down for a second before flipping back up onto both feet and thrusting forward with his sword, which the Mandalorian parried with the brace on his non-sword wielding arm. Sparks shot from the point of contact, making Rey gasp.

It wasn’t a very loud sound, but it made both Skywalker and the Mandalorian freeze, both of their heads turning sharply to stare at her.

Rey ducked behind the door, suddenly embarrassed, though she wasn’t sure why.

It wasn’t a surprise when the door opened, revealing Skywalker, who looked ruffled, and the Mandalorian hovering behind him.

“I’m so sorry, Rey, did our sparring wake you up?” he was out of breath, but as polite as ever.

She shook her head. “No, just. Um. I was gonna go for a walk?” It was a poor excuse and even poorer lie. 

Skywalker nodded, then stepped aside. “Well, don’t stop on our account.”

Rey eyed him, then stepped outside. The air was balmy, nothing like the cold nights in the desert. She started towards the direction of the houses where they’d eaten dinner, then stopped and came back.

“Are you guys… gonna keep fighting?”

Skywalker glanced to the Mandalorian, who shrugged, spinning his strange sword once in a lazy circle.

“Yes,” said Skywalker, after a beat.

Rey squirmed, but her curiosity won out. “Can I watch?”

Skywalker looked delighted by the request. “Of course! But stay a safe distance away, okay?”

She nodded, already eager to see more as she followed them back to the field. She sat only a few steps away from the main building, cross-legged, hands in her lap, watching the two expectantly.

First, Skywalker and the Mandalorian circled each other, neither making a move. Then, in the blink of an eye, they lunged, the blades swishing and humming and sparking at every clash. Skywalker was agile, and could jump impossibly high, but the Mandalorian had both strength and size on his side. His armor just added to that.

Despite their apparent imbalance, Rey was surprised when the fight seemed rather evenly matched. The Mandalorian might’ve been strong, but Skywalker was the fastest fighter Rey had ever seen. He was but a blur, jumping and twisting and flipping around the Mandalorian.

The glowing light trails of the swords and the spark of green light against shining armor made it difficult to follow some moments, but Rey couldn’t look away. She barely blinked the entire time, fascinated beyond words.

She wasn’t sure how long the fight lasted, but it felt simultaneously like hours and yet only a few heartbeats. It ended with the two with their swords locked, feet dug into the gross, neither giving in. Rey held her breath, leaning forward so far she needed to stable herself with one hand in the grass.

Which one would break the lock? Would one surrender? Rey’s entire body was tense with adrenaline.

Then Skywalker pushed up on his toes, bumped his forehead into the Mandalorian’s helmet, and leaped back. The Mandalorian staggered forward a step but caught himself easily, and both stood up and turned their swords off, the blades disappearing into the handles.

They stood, staring at each other, then turned to Rey. Skywalker was grinning as he pushed his bare hand through his sweaty hair, making it stand up in odd clumps. It made an odd picture, more like what she’d imagined Luke Skywalker of the old Rebellion to look like.

“That was incredible!” she breathed when they came walking towards her. Even the Mandalorian was out of breath, breathing quiet and metallic, shoulders heaving.

She was more awake than she’d been since she arrived, and the words came tumbling out. “What _are_ your swords, exactly? Why are they different? Do you teach- does Ben get to fight like that?”

Skywalker laughed, breathy and amused, tilting his head back. Then, he reached to his belt where the handle of his sword hung. He unhooked it, and carefully offered it to Rey. The device was heavy, warmed by Skywalker’s palms. She held it in both hands, starry-eyed

“This is a lightsaber,” he explained. “It’s a powerful weapon used by the Jedi. It can cut through anything. Well…” he glanced at the Mandalorian. “Almost anything. Mandalorian beskar is the only thing I know of that can withstand a lightsaber.”

The words hung above Rey’s head, and then came crashing down around her.

 _Beskar,_ she remembered. When she’d met the Mandalorian the first time, he said his armor was made of _beskar._

“Like the Knights of Beskar…” she whispered, wide eyes turning to look up at the Mandalorian.

“The Knights of- what?” Skywalker also looked at the Mandalorian, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

Rey jumped in. “My parents used to tell me stories of… the Knights of Beskar, and the… the sorcerer warriors that could control the Force. That’s how I learned about the Jedi, I think.”

Now Skywalker was staring at her, his eyes bright even in the dark. “What else did your parents tell you in their stories?”

For a second, Rey hesitated. These memories, these stories, they were the last bits of her parents she had. Would telling them to others somehow weaken them? Would she have to give away pieces, only to end up with even less than the scraps she _could_ remember?

No, that wasn’t how it worked. Rey clenched her fist in her lap and looked up at Skywalker.

“Can I tell you somewhere else?” The field was peaceful, but Rey needed to focus, to remember every piece of the puzzle she was still putting together.

Skywalker nodded. “Why don’t we go to your room?”

That was good. Rey could do that.

She lead them back quietly, and crawled onto her messy bed, sitting cross-legged again. There was still a stool beside her bed from the previous day, and Skywalker took it, the Mandalorian standing behind him. The darkness of the room helped blur the details, making it easier for Rey to tune them out.

Rey looked at Skywalker and the Mandalorian for a moment then took a breath.

“My parents used to tell me stories.”

_“Mama, where do we come from?”_

_“You come from two worlds, little one,” says her mother. Rey looks up at her, and her mother frames her little face with her large, soft hands._

_“But what about you and papa?”_

_Her mother smiles, so sad, so weary. “Oh, Rey. My darling. If only it were safe for you to know.” Her mother only lets her hair down at home, and whenever she does, Rey reaches up to play with it._

_She does this now, running her little fingers through the fine strands. “But what about you and papa?”_

_“Oh, Rey… If only it were safe for you to know.”_

_“Why isn’t it safe?”_

_When her mother speaks, her words are heavy with a weight Rey is too little to understand._

_“Because we must hide, we must not speak of who we were. For if anyone were to discover us, they would not rest until you were taken from my arms.” Her mother draws spirals against Rey’s cheeks with her fingers, the feeling light and ticklish, making Rey giggle._

_“Mama, tell me more!” she whines, bouncing up and down on her knees, the soft bed they sit on cushioning her movements._

_Her mother tilts her head, dark hair falling about her face in waves. “There is nothing good left to tell.”_

_Rey wants to fix whatever it is making her mother so sad, but before she can come up with a plan, strong arms encircle her little body and lift her up._

_“Papa!”_

_Her father laughs, open and warm, as she wraps her tiny arms around his head and hugs his face, rubbing her cheek against his scratchy, dark beard and rocking back and forth in excitement. The breastplate of his armor knocks against her knees, but she doesn’t care._

_“Hello, my little_ ka’ra _,” he says, once she slides down and back onto the bed. “What have you two been getting up to today?” He leans in, her mother leans up, and they press their foreheads together, eyes closed._

 _“Mama’s telling me stories!” Rey pipes up, grinning. Then, she frowns. “But she won’t tell me any about you guys!” Suddenly, the next thing seems obvious. “Will_ you _tell me stories about where you guys come from?”_

_Her father sighs, long and drawn out, then raises one gloved hand to scratch at his chin. “Hmm… what if I told you a story of the Knights of Beskar instead?”_

_Rey gasps, clapping with eager excitement. “Yes! Yes!”_

_So her father pulls off his armor, setting it beside the bed carefully, one piece at a time until he’s just in dark, worn fabric. Then, he settles across from her mother, and Rey climbs into her mother’s lap, and while her mother begins to work careful fingers through Rey’s hair, her father begins to speak._

_“Long ago, before you were even a speck of stardust, there was an order of powerful sorcerers, who were so skilled they could bend the very life force of reality. They called themselves the_ Jetii, _the Jedi, and nearly none could stand in the way of their swords.”_

_“Why couldn’t they stand in the way of their swords, papa?” Rey stares at her father with big, shining eyes._

_Her father hums, shaking his head, then continues. “Because their swords were made of pure energy so powerful they could cut through anything, be it bone, metal, or flesh. And not only were these sorcerers, these_ Jetii, _so powerful, they were also cold, empty of love. They cared not for the bonds of blood and heart, disconnecting from all in the name of their powers.”_

_Rey holds her breath, unable to speak._

_“But not everybody was powerless to these sorcerers,” her father says, a smile pulling at his lips, making his dark eyes sparkle just like Rey’s. “Those that could stand against the_ Jetii _were known as the Knights of Beskar. They wore armor so skillfully crafted, nothing could cut through it, not even the_ Jetii’s _swords of power. Together, they formed a strength none could defeat, lead by their fearless leader.”_

_“Who was their leader?” whispers Rey, voice small and awed._

_Her father’s voice was proud and firm when he spoke. “He was called the Mand’alor. He wielded the foil to the_ Jetii’s _swords of power, a sword of shadow and light, perfectly in balance. It granted him power, and it granted him loyalty; loyalty to and loyalty from his people, his soldiers.” He looks at her, then leans closer._

_“It was said that when one was in danger, you need only look for the Mand’alor. He would protect those that trusted in his rule._

_“Trust in him, and you will be safe,” says her father._

_“Did the Mand’alor beat the_ Jetii?” _asks Rey, but her father shakes his head._

 _“It was the terrible war that ravaged our galaxy that beat the_ Jetii, _but in its wreckage and destruction, it took the Knights of Beskar as well. The war was all-consuming, and nothing, no one was safe.”_

_Rey shivers, and curls back into her mother’s chest, her little shoulders hunching. “Is that why you guys can’t tell me where you come from? Cause of the war? Did it take away your stories?”_

_Her father looks at her with kind, gentle eyes. “My daughter, my_ ad’ika _. My little shining_ ka’ra _. Come here.” He opens his arms, and Rey climbs into his lap swiftly. “It matters not where we come from; only where we will go.”_

Silence hung in the air for a long moment when Rey stopped speaking. Her mouth felt dry, but there wasn’t anything to drink, so she did her best to lick the inside of her lips. The darkness of the room helped, but it still felt… heavy.

“Your father…” Skywalker whispered, then paused, and looked up at the Mandalorian, who had stepped closer while she was telling the story, a hand now resting on Skywalker’s shoulder.

“Was your father a Mandalorian?” The Mandalorian’s voice was pinched, quiet, and hollow from inside his helmet. Skywalker gazed at him for a long moment, then looked to Rey, obviously asking the same thing.

Rey tried to meet his gaze but failed. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I don’t… I don’t remember much about them. That memory… it’s the clearest one I have.”

A beat of silence, then Skywalker asked, “Do you remember if either of your parents possessed the same powers you do?”

Rey looked up, nodding. “I learned to heal from my mother. But she never did anything else. And she said I needed to hide my powers, or people would come to take me away.”

Skywalker looked pained, and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. “Now is not the time to discuss this,” he finally said. “It is late, and we all need to rest.” He looked to the Mandalorian, who was standing in silence, visor tilted to look at nothing.

“But in the morning,” he said, looking to Rey, “we can continue. I would like to hear more about your parents, if there’s anything else you remember. Does that sound okay?”

Rey nodded again, still not saying anything. Telling the story was probably the most she’d ever spoken in her life.

Skywalker gave her one last look, then gently pushed the Mandalorian out of the room, leaving Rey to, eventually, find sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jetii - Jedi  
> ka'ra - stars  
> ad'ika - kid/son/daughter
> 
> a question has been raised: is the whole.. ben induced child massacre gonna happen in this? the answer is :) no. mainly bc this story just wont go that far into the future.
> 
> that being said! i have like. half a one-shot idea that would be a few years in the future that WOULD touch on ben’s pull to the dark side! so we’ll see. i have many one-shot ideas for this universe. it has consumed me. only time will tell.
> 
> ok thats all folks goodnight xoxo 


	4. chapter 4: training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was wondering if you wanted to watch Ben’s training today.” 
> 
> Rey instantly perked up, suddenly at attention. “Like… his Jedi training?” 
> 
> Skywalker nodded. 
> 
> “Yes,” Rey said, not hesitating for a second. “Yes, absolutely.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god action is so hard to write. and dialogue. everything. is hard to write.  
> but finally. one yodito scene. im so sorry child i have neglected you.

The day began with a pressure on Rey’s chest and the feeling of tiny claws pressing into her cheeks. Her eyes flew open, only see she was nose to nose with Grogu. The creature stared at her with his massive, glossy eyes, and Rey stared back.

“Um. G’morning?” she tried, which made the creature’s ears perk up. “Can you… get off me?” She wasn’t really sure if he could understand speech, but she’d seen everyone talk to him like he did. So, she was hopeful.

The creature blinked slowly.

“Please?” she tried again.

Finally, he seemed to get the idea, and slid off her chest and onto the bed.

Rey sat up, rubbed her eyes and yawned, then stared down at him. “I’m not really sure what you want,” she huffed. Slowly, she reached out a hand and ran a careful finger over his small, wrinkled head. He was surprisingly soft.

“Um… did you get lost looking for your dad?” She grimaced. Calling the Mandalorian such a simple word felt strange, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.

Grogu tilted his head at her, then laughed. At least, she was pretty sure it was a laugh, and stretched out his arms towards her.

“What? Uh-“ she looked down at him, then at the door, then towards the window, suddenly panicking. Nearly every time she’d seen the creature he was being carried by someone else. Did he want her to carry him?

“I don’t really… I’ve never held a baby,” she said, leaning down to look at Grogu more closely. He just squeaked, then babbled something soft, and stretched up his arms even more.

Rey stared at him, then at her hands, then shrugged. “I guess I can’t just leave you here.” She scooped up the creature with one arm like she’d seen Skywalker and the Mandalorian do, but she was too small, and it didn’t feel secure unless she hugged him with both arms.

The creature (or, maybe, she should call him a child, she thought), looked up at her with big, happy eyes and a tiny, open-mouthed smile. His teeth looked sharp enough to be dangerous, which was, somehow, the cutest thing about him.

“I guess you’re not so bad,” she said, gently adjusting the creatu- _child_ in her arms. She needed to stop thinking of him as a creature. “Should we go find someone?”

The child blinked again. Rey took it to mean yes.

Outside, the sun was pale and pleasant, the early morning air crisp and fresh. She took a moment to just stand outside and breathe, then made her way towards the houses she’d visited the night before.

There was smoke coming from the chimney of the house everyone ate dinner in, so she went up to that door and knocked.

There was a pause, and then the Mandalorian opened the door.

Rey tried not to stare.

While he still wore his helmet, the rest of his armor was noticeably missing. She noticed the hand on the door was gloved, but still, seeing him without all the shiny armor and cape and weapons made him look… very Human.

There was a moment of silence, and then Rey shifted, holding up Grogu. “He woke me up. I think he might’ve been lost?”

The Mandalorian took the child, who clambered up his shirt and onto his chest, cooing happily and whisper-babbling into the Mandalorian’s helmet.

“Lost, huh?” he finally said, tilting his visor down to look at Grogu. He didn’t sound like he believed it.

Rey wanted to stay, she wanted to say something more, but what was she supposed to say? So while the Mandalorian was looking at his son, she stepped back, ready to go back to her room, or the field, or anywhere else but there.

But the Mandalorian looked up at her. “Rey,” he said, and she went frozen stiff. “Have you spoken with Luke about your parents?”

“Not yet,” she said, faster than she would’ve liked.

The Mandalorian didn’t react. He seemed almost too neutral.

Before she could stop herself, Rey asked, “How do you only live here ‘sometimes?’” It was all she could think to say.

The Mandalorian looked up, then softened. It was barely noticeable, but she saw the way his shoulders relaxed, his helmet tilted. “I stay in the summertime. For him.” He raised the child up a little, lightly scratching his nose with a gloved finger.

“What about the rest of the year?”

He sighed. “That depends on what I’m doing.”

Rey narrowed her eyes, then crossed her arms. “What does that even mean?”

The Mandalorian gave her a long, silent look, then stepped back into the house. “Why don’t you come inside.”

Rey hesitated, but only for a second, before stepping in.

The room looked much the same as the night before, but this time, Rey took everything in. The table was pushed to one wall, near a window, with a doorway to another room opposite, to the right of the main door. A sink was pushed against the middle wall, with what looked like a nano-wave cooker attached to it. Next to that was a small wood-burning hearth, with a little fire lit; the source of the chimney smoke.

The Mandalorian sat at the table and set Grogu down on the floor. He went waddling off into the mystery second room, and Rey took a seat at the table.

She gave the Mandalorian a pointed look. “Well?”

The Mandalorian sighed, then nodded. “Did your father ever tell you what planet those… Knights of Beskar were from?”

Rey shook her head. “It was just a story. That part wasn’t really important.” Sure, maybe she’d wondered, in the privacy of her own thoughts, and she knew the Mandalorian’s armor was made of beskar, but that wasn’t enough to just _assume._

The Mandalorian paused again, and Rey bit her tongue to keep from pushing him on.

“I live on the planet Mandalore,” he said. “In the ruins of its capital city, Sundari.”

“Wait, but I thought-“ Rey started, but the Mandalorian interrupted her.

“The leader of Mandalore is called… the Mand’alor.” The pronunciation was just different enough Rey noticed, and coming from the Mandalorian, the word sounded… right. Like it fit in his mouth.

“Oh,” was all she could say. Then- “Wait, the _ruins_ of its capital city?”

The Mandalorian nodded. “Your father’s stories were right about one thing: there was a war that killed off nearly every single Mandalorian. But… we survived.”

Rey thought about that for a moment. “So then, you’re from Mandalore? That’s your home?”

The Mandalorian shook his head, turning to look after wherever it was the child went. “The kid is my home. And it was only recently I even knew Mandalore was hospitable.”

Rey stared at him when he stopped, silently willing him to continue.

“Mandalorians are not, strictly speaking, a species,” he said, slowly. “It’s a way of life. Mandalorian soldiers raised me, and I chose to swear the Creed.”

“The Creed?”

The Mandalorian nodded. “The Way of life. Much like… a religion.”

Rey considered this, holding it against her father’s stories in her mind. The two facts didn’t contradict each other, only fit together in her still incomplete mental puzzle. Then, she thought of something. “Are the Jedi like that, too?”

The Mandalorian chuckled. “You’re a smart girl, kid,” he said, shaking his head. Rey tried not to preen under the praise. “But, yes. Though, I’m not the person you’ll want to discuss Jedi matters with.”

Rey didn’t need to clarify what he meant. She’d already planned to go find Skywalker as soon as she could.

As if summoned by her thought, the man himself came walking in the still-open door.

“Good morning!” he said, voice notably cheery. His robes were pale today, more like the ones Ben and Grogu both wore, but his black leather glove was still firmly in place. “I was hoping I would find you here, Rey.”

She looked up at her name. “Do you want to talk about my parents more?”

Skywalker shook his head, though he was smiling. “Right to business, aren’t you. But no, actually. I was wondering if you wanted to watch Ben’s training today.”

Rey instantly perked up, suddenly at attention. “Like… his Jedi training?”

Skywalker nodded.

“Yes,” Rey said, not hesitating for a second. “Yes, _absolutely.”_

An hour later found Rey sitting at the edge of the field, watching as Skywalker lead Ben through a series of drills with a short, wooden staff.

He wasn’t bad, but even Rey knew his technique was sloppy. Still, he took every instruction from Skywalker, and she was mildly impressed by how many times he would repeat a move. The dedication was impressive.

Grogu didn’t take part in the staff training. Instead, he spent the lesson on Skywalker’s shoulder, holding on to his hair and chattering away with him.

The staff training comprised of multiple sections, each one highlighting a specific type of move, including offensive and defensive moves. Ben excelled at the offensive moves, Rey noticed. He might’ve been sloppy, but his determination as he chased after Skywalker more than made up for it.

After a short break, during which Ben drank an entire tin of water in about ten seconds, Skywalker disappeared into the main building. He came back with a small, spherical droid in one hand, and a strip of black fabric in the other.

Rey watched, intrigued, as he tossed the droid into the air. It dipped, then hovered, a little wobbly in the air. Skywalker then tied the black fabric around Ben’s eyes and stepped aside.

Rey held her breath, waiting for something to happen, but Ben just stood there, holding his staff with both hands, the end resting in the grass. The droid hovered near him, then spun around his head to hover directly above him.

Ben took a deep breath, and stabbed the staff upward, sending the droid flying. After a second, the droid righted itself, then found a new position below and behind Ben.

Again, he struck it with perfect accuracy.

The process repeated itself over and over again. Rey felt like she didn’t blink the entire time. Ben might’ve been sloppy without the blindfold, but Rey realized now that maybe that was just him having fun. As he blindly chased the droid, his movements were sure and clear, each strike precise.

She wasn’t sure how long the dance lasted, but eventually, Ben groaned and dropped his stick to the ground as he tore off his blindfold.

“This is too _easy,_ Master Luke!” he whined, which made Skywalker laugh.

“How about some live practice, then?”

Ben’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Yes, yes!” he cheered, already picking up his staff again and dropping into a ready position.

Apparently, “live practice” meant Ben attacking the Mandalorian, in full armor, as hard as he could.

The Mandalorian didn’t have a single weapon on him, but Rey realized just how deadly he was even with just his armor and fists. He didn’t actually attack Ben, but he blocked his hits with his arm braces, or a shoulder, or once, even his helmet. Every hit made a satisfying clang of wood against metal, and there were even a few softer ones when Ben managed to get through the Mandalorian’s defenses and hit him in the gaps of his armor.

Grogu, still perched on Skywalker’s shoulder as he walked wide circles around the dueling pair, cheered loudly and happily for his father. He nearly fell off of Skywalker’s shoulder _multiple_ times, making Rey giggle quietly to herself.

To finish the practice off, Ben launched himself at the Mandalorian from behind, the same kind of impossible leap she’d seen Skywalker do the night before. Ben locked his arms around the Mandalorian’s helmet, his knees around his chest, and held on tightly while the Mandalorian staggered around. Finally, he fell to his knees, Ben still clinging to his back, then fell backward, pinning Ben to the ground.

“Let me up, let me up!” Ben shrieked, laughing loudly as he struggled under the heavy armor. The Mandalorian sat up slowly, and Ben wriggled free, bounding around him to Skywalker.

“Did you see that, Master Luke? Did you see how many hits I landed?”

Luke nodded, clasping his hands behind his back as his student bounced in front of him. “I saw, Ben. You’re improving very well, you should be very proud.”

Grogu burbled, then slid down Skywalker’s body and ran off to the Mandalorian, who scooped him up without even looking.

The lesson evidently finished, Ben ran inside to the main building with his practice staff, then came out again and disappeared down the path to the houses.

“Well?” Skywalker turned to Rey, who hadn’t moved from her place in the grass. “What do you think so far?”

Rey looked between the Mandalorian and Skywalker, adrenaline and excitement from watching the training still coursing through her.

“Is all the training like that? Fighting and stuff?”

Skywalker shook his head. “No, not all of it. After lunch, we’ll work on meditation and focus. Come on, let’s go find something to eat.”

Before training, she’d eaten a breakfast of strange, cooked eggs and fruit with Skywalker, cooked over the little fire in what she now knew was the Mandalorian’s house. When she asked where Skywalker lived, he explained that both he and Ben slept in the same building as her, while Ben’s mother, the Senator, stayed in another of the small houses.

“Why don’t you have your own house?” she asked Skywalker, as he sliced a loaf of bread into even pieces, and smeared some kind of red, chunky spread on each slice.

“Well, technically, this is my house,” said Skywalker.

Rey just stared at him, then at the Mandalorian, who was feeding Grogu what looked an awful lot like some kind of blue eggs, with soft, translucent skins.

“I stay here with Grogu when his father is off-planet,” he explained, tone even and gentle. “But during the summer, when we all stay here together, I stay in my study, which is at the end of the hall your room is attached to.”

Rey remembered the closed door, then nodded. She accepted a piece of the bread from Skywalker but didn’t eat quite yet.

“So then where does Ben sleep?” She felt like she would’ve seen him if he slept in one of the rooms next to her own.

“He’s staying with my sister right now, to let you adjust and have some space.”

Was there _yet another_ person here Rey needed to meet?

“Leia,” Skywalker clarified. “Ben is my nephew.”

Oh. _Oh._ Another small piece of the confusing puzzle slipped into place, while simultaneously creating a whole new slurry of questions.

“I’ll explain more later. For now, eat up!” Skywalker bit into his slice of bread, and Rey mirrored him.

Her eyes shot open, wider than they’d ever been, as she stared at the bread. The sauce stuff Skywalker spread on each slice was sweet, probably the sweetest thing Rey ever tasted. It coated her entire mouth in heavenly stickiness and got all over her fingers as she crammed the bread into her mouth.

She ate four entire pieces in complete silence, while Skywalker delicately nibbled on his slice and visibly tried not to laugh as he watched her. Along with the bread and _jam,_ Skywalker called it, there was more of the dried meat Grogu ate at dinner the night before, and a cup of pale golden milk that tasted like the stuff spread on the first bread she’d eaten.

If there was one thing Rey liked about this place, it was the food.

As Skywalker finished lunch, the Mandalorian left, silently leaving the child in Skywalker’s lap and disappearing out the door. Rey didn’t ask where he was going.

After lunch, they returned to the field, where Ben was waiting, lounging in the grass.

“Meditation,” as Skywalker called it, involved sitting very still and very quiet. He, Ben, and Grogu all sat cross-legged, hands resting on their knees, eyes closed. Curious, Rey mimicked them but kept her eyes open.

But they just… sat there. Doing nothing. Even Ben, who always seemed like he needed to be moving, was almost completely still. His nose twitched sometimes, and he adjusted his shoulders or sighed extra loudly every now and then, but he was still… surprisingly still.

After a long few minutes, Skywalker opened his eyes, looking directly at Rey.

“Why don’t you try closing your eyes?” he said. “Close your eyes, listen to everything around you. There are so many things we miss as we walk through the world; this is a chance to notice those small details.”

 _“The Force is all around us,”_ she remembered her mother saying. _“From the softest sigh to the loudest of songs, you can always find it if you listen.”_

Rey closed her eyes and did her best to listen.

In the desert, Rey was used to silence. She’d lived alone for years, so aside from the constant whisper of the wind, or the sound of her speeder bike, Rey spent much of her life in peaceful, lonely quiet.

That was not the case here, on Yavin. From the forest came the sounds of birds and the occasional bark of an animal, creating a constant buzz of white noise. The wind here was softer, rustling in the leaves and grass. She could hear Ben breathing, and Grogu occasionally sniffing.

They stayed like that, silent, breathing, for a long time. Rey’s mind was surprisingly quiet, and while she normally struggled with sitting still for a long time, and she did fidget a little bit, somehow, this was good. Grounding. Maybe it was Skywalker’s presence radiating calm, or feeling _safe_ for the first time in a long time, she didn’t know.

Whatever it was, Rey wanted so badly to trust it.

After meditation, Ben brought out the practice wooden staff again, but this time, he brought one for Rey. The Mandalorian came to take Grogu from Skywalker and headed towards their house. Without the child, Skywalker had much more freedom to demonstrate the movements of the staff.

When Rey first tried stepping through the moves, she kept needing to blow her still-loose hair out of her eyes. She’d never found something to tie it up with, and until now, she hadn’t been doing anything that needed it up and out of the way.

To her surprise, Skywalker told them to pause, then ran off towards the houses. When he came back, he gave Rey a strange, stretchy loop. She always tied her hair with string or fabric, or rarely, even wire. But the tie was soft and worked well to pull her hair up into a hasty tail, blessedly out of the way.

Then, they could begin.

Skywalker quickly realized Rey wasn’t totally clueless with a staff, though her form was completely made-up. It gave her an advantage when practicing attacks with Ben, though, since he had no idea what she was going to do next.

Fighting without her gloves felt off, but they’d been lost on the Imperial ship, and her hands were bare ever since. Her hands weren’t soft, but back home, she rarely took them off, so she was unused to the rough pressure on her skin. Somehow, it only added to her thrill.

Practicing with someone else was exhilarating. Even when Ben managed to get past her defense and lightly wack her side or shoulder, Rey grinned the entire time.

Fighting for fun rather than survival was unfamiliar, and at first, Rey’s swings and strikes were too forceful, strong enough to inflict real damage. Learning how to pull back, how to stop her hits before they made contact with soft flesh, _that_ was the hardest part. But Rey was nothing if not determined, and put every ounce of her focus into learning control.

Skywalker showed her how to quickly change the staff between her two hands, and how to slip her grip down to one end, which turned the staff into more of a spear. He showed her how to spin the staff with both hands, a completely useless move in theory, but useful for intimidation.

When Rey was more comfortable with the moves Ben and Skywalker used, she and Ben teamed up to battle Skywalker.

It wasn’t a fair fight in the slightest, but Skywalker did his best to hold back, and Rey and Ben’s styles were so different that the combination threw him off guard at least a few times. It mostly consisted of them chasing him around the field, one of them hacking away while the other tried to get in a sneak attack.

They fought until they were all three gasping, collapsing into the grass. Skywalker looked so _free_ like this, laughing as Ben dramatically panted, chest heaving up and down as he stared up at the sky. He looked young, Human, more like the blue-eyed poster boy she’d expected. Most of all, he looked _happy._

Rey grinned up at the clouds. For just a little while, she’d forgotten where she was, how far away from home, how many things were still uncertain. These people, with their sweet food and constant warmth and bright laughs, these people felt closer than anyone had in years.

Maybe, just maybe, this place wouldn’t be a bad place to stay.

Dinner was eaten in the same manner as the night before; everyone together, sitting around the Mandalorian’s table.

There was a happy buzz of chatter, and this time, Rey wasn’t only listening. She helped Ben tell the Senator about their joint attack on Skywalker, which made the Senator light up in a very similar manner to Skywalker. Now that she knew the two were siblings, they made more sense, and Rey giggled behind her hand as the Senator teased Skywalker over nearly being bested by two children. Rey didn’t even feel the need to mention she and Ben never had a chance at winning that fight.

Still full of energy after dinner, Rey wasn’t sure what to do next. The day of physical exertion only sharpened her thoughts, and Rey felt more clear-headed than she had in days.

Luckily, Skywalker seemed to know exactly what she wanted. After he cleaned up, just like the previous night, he sat at the table with the Mandalorian, who held a sleeping Grogu in his arms, expectant.

Rey tucked her seat in close, leaning her stomach against the table edge with her hands under her thighs.

“I want…” she paused, chewed her lip, tried again. “I want to know… where I come from. Can you tell me that?”

“Perhaps. I’ve thought a great deal about the story you told us last night,” began Skywalker.

She didn’t speak, just held his gaze.

“I think I know where pieces of the story came from. In the old tradition, future Jedi padawans, their trainees, were often taken from their parents at a young age to begin their training.” He paused, and sighed. “The Jedi of old believed that attachments of any kind were a hindrance, that in order to be powerful, one must also be completely disconnected.

“And… the Jedi were indeed seen as… other, at times. They were a chosen few, unique to their species in their sensitivity to the Force. There are many stories of how terrifying they appeared to those unfamiliar with them.”

At that, Skywalker’s face darkened, and he looked down at the table. Next to him, the Mandalorian with Grogu in his lap, leaned towards him slightly.

“Not only that but there once existed another type of Force-users who channeled darkness, rather than light.”

Rey leaned in. “Like… Dark Jedi?”

Skywalker nodded. “Exactly. Both sides, light and dark, fought with lightsabers like mine. However, unlike mine, their sabers were red, corrupted by the darkness in their hearts.”

“Do you think people mixed them up?” asked Rey.

“I don’t know, not for sure, but… I think it’s likely, especially as the war created so much confusion.” Skywalker sighed, rubbing his brow with a tired hand. “There was also a specific type of Dark Jedi, called a _Sith._ ”

Even the word made Rey shiver.

“The Sith Lords were Dark Jedi of extreme power, following a strict code and teachings. They took padawans much like the Jedi, to train in the dark arts.”

“Did the Sith attack the Knight of Be- I mean, did they attack the Mandalorians?” It felt odd, combining reality with the foggy memories of her parents’ stories, but Rey was eager to form each new connection.

“They did. However…” Skywalker paused, looked to the Mandalorian, who was a silent statue beside him, then back to Rey. “The Jedi and the Mandalorians did indeed have a rather mythic level of rivalry. But both were slowly threatened and their numbers dwindled, leaving… very few of both sides left.”

Rey took a moment to process all the new facts and information, turning it over and over, looking for any flaw or imperfection that wouldn’t fit into her jumbled puzzle. But it _fit._ It took a moment to figure out just how it fit, but it did.

But still, there were gaps.

“So… what about my parents?”

Skywalker took a deep breath. “I believe your father was a Mandalorian,” he said. “And I believe your mother might have been a Jedi, or at least a padawan. The healing ability she taught you is an incredibly difficult skill to learn, one I doubt she would’ve known without training.”

She should’ve expected that. She should’ve known he was going to say that. And yet, it was like a punch to the stomach. “I- I don’t know,” was all she mumbled, curling in on herself.

“That’s okay,” Skywalker soothed. “It’s a lot to take in, and I’m sorry if it’s too much.”

Rey shook her head quickly. It wasn’t too much. She was tough, she could handle it. But it was still a lot, and she just needed a moment.

“But then… what does that make me?” Rey finally looked up at Skywalker, at the both of them, Jedi and Mandalorian alike.

To her surprise, it was the Mandalorian who spoke first.

“It makes you a foundling,” he said, voice quiet but strong. “It makes you a child with parents may be lost, but with a people who will protect you at any cost, now we know of your existence.”

Skywalker smiled, achingly fond and open, at the Mandalorian, then turned the smile on Rey. “And it makes you uniquely qualified to be here. This whole family is built from different worlds.” He reached over to brush a finger over Grogu’s nose. He didn’t wake up.

“So what do I do now?” Did she have to be a Mandalorian? Or a Jedi? Could someone be both? Her head spun with questions.

“What do you _want_ to do?”

What _did_ she want to do? Even though it was only her second day on the planet, Rey already wanted to stay. It wasn’t a sure thought, and she couldn’t think about it too much before she realized how ridiculous it sounded. Could she really just… leave Jakku? For good?

For so long, no matter how the stars called to her, she’d stayed on the desert planet, for it was the last, barely-there connection to her parents. Her parents, who hid her on a cargo ship, who promised her they would be back, only for that to be her last memory.

No matter how long she’d waited, huddled in the Jakku docking port, hiding as best she could, she’d known even at that age her parents were never coming back.

“Do I have to choose?” asked Rey after long moment of silence, pulling herself out of her own thoughts.

“Choose?” Skywalker looked confused.

“Between… Mandalorian and Jedi.”

“Oh, young one…” Skywalker sighed, shaking his head. “You can choose one or the other, or a combination of the two. You can even walk away from both. You are not your parents, and the world is not the same as it once was.” He paused, glancing to the Mandalorian again, and down to the child in the Mandalorian’s lap. “The Jedi and Mandalorians of old may have been dire enemies, but that is no longer. It’s quite the opposite, in fact.”

Rey didn’t need to ask what he meant. The Jedi and the Mandalorian were so close they seemed to share both home and care of the little green child; that didn’t exactly scream _rivalry._

Rey thought of her parents, and she looked at the Jedi and the Mandalorian, and she made a decision.

“I want… to train. With my… powers.” She spoke clearly, even though her words were halting. She wanted to be sure of this.

Skywalker nodded, low and slow. “I would be honored.”

“And-“ Rey wasn’t finished. She turned to the Mandalorian, determined. “And I want to learn about the Mandalorians. About- about _Mandalore.”_

The Mandalorian nodded at her, mirroring Skywalker. “I will do my best.”

Rey sat back, placing her hands on the table with certainty. Then, a thought occurred.

“Do I have to call you Master Luke and… what was it- oh! Master Djarin?” She tilted her head, waiting for an answer.

Skywalker let out a loud, joyful laugh, slapping the stoic, silent Mandalorian on his armored shoulder.

Right then and there, Rey knew she made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're over halfway to the finish line! i upped the chapter count by 1, too. so. theres that.  
> im STRUGGLING to write the chapter after next, so plz bear w me while i battle that. but itll happen, i swear it  
> i keep getting distracted by the one shot ideas set after this that i have :/ including little a stormpilot >:)  
> anyway! happy saturday :) im on tumblr at 4hoots and mychemicalraymond ! thanks for stopping by :>


	5. chapter 5: family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These people, this _family_ , they were so full of love it was sometimes unbearable.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timelines arent real and nothing adds up. what about it.  
> canon is but a guideline for my own fanatics.

And so, the days began to tick by.

Sometimes, Rey would wake up to Grogu curled up on her chest, or on her pillow, and every time she wondered how on earth he got there. But every time, she would carry him, sleepy-eyed and bleary, to the Mandalorian’s house, where she’d eat breakfast with Grogu while the Mandalorian lingered nearby.

Those mornings were quiet and calm, the Mandalorian’s presence a heavy safety blanket around her shoulders. Sometimes they would make small talk, but more often then not, Rey would simply spend the time amusing Grogu while the Mandalorian watched over them both.

Sometimes, Ben would wake her up, either with a knock on her doorframe or even, as time went on, a gentle shake of her shoulders.

Now that she was slowly adjusting, Ben slept in the room next to hers, but he also spent a lot of time with his mother. She learned that Ben suffered from intense night terrors, and one night, she found him shaking in the corner of his room, hands over his ears. She’d never comforted someone through their own fear, but on instinct, Rey curled up next to him and let him lean against her shoulder. When she woke up to the sun’s first light, his little hand was curled in hers, and Rey didn’t pull away.

She learned just how much Ben loved his parents.

He told her endless stories about his dad, an apparent ex-smuggler and all-around galactic rogue. When she asked why he wasn’t on Yavin with them, Ben would always get quiet when he explained that his dad wasn’t good at staying in one place, so while he and his mother stayed there in the summer, his dad would go off gallivanting. But he would always come back to them with new presents and new stories and the best hugs in the world.

At first, she was jealous of Ben’s love for his parents, especially when she would watch him run into his mother’s arms. But the jealousy slowly morphed into curiosity, and she found herself allowing Ben to drag her to his and his mother’s house more and more.

The Senator’s house was very similar to the Mandalorian’s. The table was smaller, and there was a dark in one corner, and the floor was covered in a soft carpet. There was also an astromech unit there, which the Senator called _Artoo,_ and would swear up a storm if Rey poked at it.

Sometimes Rey would join them for breakfast, and slowly, she realized the Senator wasn’t nearly as scary as she seemed.

She was less a terrifying political figure of the Republic and more just… Ben’s mother, Leia, who could braid her own hair into the most elaborate styles, who might’ve been regal and poised most of the time, but sometimes dissolved into bubbly giggles when with her son or brother.

She was still a terrifying politician, but Rey learned to admire rather than fear her even tone as she spoke with unnamed members of the Republic through Artoo’s holoprojector. Rey even discovered how fascinating it was to watch Leia hold remote meetings and debates; the way she could switch between poised and regal to smiling gently at her son made Rey’s chest squeeze with an unnamable emotion.

Then there were the _twins._

They were tiny, pink little things. They lived in the house with Leia, where they spent almost all their time. Rey hadn’t seen much of them for her first few days because of this. They spent most of their time with their mother and the droid, Artoo, but sometimes, they’d come to dinner in their little floating bed, peering out of the carrier with matching curious expressions.

No matter how hard Rey tried, she couldn’t tell the twins apart. _Jacen_ and _Jaina_ were their names, but Rey didn’t really have much to do with them, not enough for it to _really_ matter. Still, she would watch them when she visited Leia and Ben, fascinated by the strange, tiny, _helpless_ Humans.

One morning, Leia offered to do Rey’s hair, but she turned down the offer.

Two mornings later, she came crawling back, apologetic and hopeful.

From then on, she wore her hair in three careful loops, with wisps hanging around her face. At first, she had to go to Leia every morning for it, but eventually, she learned how to carefully construct the style herself. Her first attempts were sloppy and fell apart in barely an hour, but she practiced, and she practiced, and soon, she held her head high, proud of the style and its connection to the Senator.

After breakfast, she and Ben and Skywalker and Grogu always stretched in the morning sunlight in the still-dewy grass. They practiced their balance, standing on one foot with the other stretched out, and Grogu would climb over their feet, making them laugh and tip over.

They spent hours upon hours meditating, and Rey learned to quiet her mind, how to push her thoughts to the side, and simply exist as a conduit for the world around her.

They spent hours upon hours dancing with their wooden staffs, and every day she and Ben got closer and closer to defeating Skywalker in a duel.

And as the days went on, Skywalker became _Master Luke,_ who she peppered with questions about the Jedi, about the Republic, about anything she could think of.

Rey would often knock on the door at the end of the hallway in the evening after dinner, and he would tell her stories so much like her parents’ it _hurt._ But these stories weren’t faded to time, these stories were real-life events, though he always added a flair for dramatic, for the sake of storytelling.

He would tell her of adventures she knew about, like defeating the Emperor and destroying the Death Stars, and he would tell her ones she’d never heard, tales of dark evils in deep swamps and bounty hunters and desert monsters.

He told her of a temple, deep in the woods, that used to be a rebel base. Now, it stood empty in the warmer months, but when the Mandalorian and Leia and Ben went home, Grogu and Master Luke would take up residence there, instead of the warm little houses. He promised he would take her there, and Rey could hardly wait.

And on one night, when Rey was particularly quiet and caught up in her own head, he showed her his hand.

The synthetic skin was strange to touch. It was too soft, too smooth. The glove kept it protected from the elements, but with the amount of combat, even if it was just practice, that Master Luke partook in, it needed regular tune-ups. He showed her how to pull away the skin, how to use the tiniest, most delicate instruments to adjust and tighten each tiny mechanism and gear.

And she learned that Master Luke could be the whiniest person she’d ever met, even whinier than Ben, when tired and being pushed to bed by his sister or the Mandalorian. He often stayed up too late, Rey knew, because she too was often unable to find sleep.

On those nights, she would drift out of her room, uncertain where to go. But somehow, she always ended up with either Master Luke or the Mandalorian or both. Sometimes, she would listen to stories. Often, she watched them spar.

Sometimes, the Mandalorian used the same sword she’d seen him use that first night. _The Darksaber,_ he called it. Other times, he would use a shiny spear, made of the same stuff as his armor. _Beskar,_ she reminded herself. Master Luke always used his glowing green lightsaber.

No matter the weapon, every fight was breathtaking.

On quieter nights, when sleep felt less like something she didn’t want and more like something she couldn’t find, she would go to the Mandalorian’s house, curl up on his floor, and listen to him tell her stories of the Mandalorians of old.

He wasn’t exactly a good storyteller, not as dramatic or creative as Master Luke, but his voice was gentle and soothing, and more than once, Rey woke up on the same wooden floor, Grogu curled up with her.

She still had nightmares and dreams she couldn’t explain. She still dreamed of memories and sights she knew were real but also knew she’d never seen. She still dreamed of her parents, particles and fragments of her memories forming fractured images of them. But still, the fractured images were always tinged with love and comfort, feelings that only grew warmer as time went on.

And slowly, Rey relaxed. She let herself be a child, let herself be loved, let herself be something other than _alone._

She high-fived Ben during training, or ruffled his hair, or flicked his forehead when he was being extra annoying, or pushed him with her shoulder to throw him off balance as they trotted down the path between the houses and the field.

And she poked at Ben’s stomach and she chased him around with their staffs.

And when his eyes dimmed and his voice became quiet and he hid in his room or by Artoo in the corner, she crouched next to him and told him stories of her own, of Jakku and of scavenging.

She watched Master Luke and Leia at dinner, in the mornings, in heated arguments and fond whisperings and boisterous laughter. She watched them banter, watched them give each other silent looks and twinkling glances, watched them tease and bicker and joke and _love._

Rey never had a brother. She never had any siblings at all. But as she watched Ben try and fit an entire boiled egg in his mouth, she thought maybe, he would make a good one.

These people, this _family,_ they were so full of love it was sometimes unbearable. It was so obvious in every single one of them; from Ben telling his mother incomprehensible jokes and her laughing anyway, to Master Luke and the Mandalorian walking with their heads bowed together, speaking in hushed whispers, to the Mandalorian talking to Grogu in a voice meant only for the child.

She couldn’t remember very well what it was like to have a family, but as she sat between the Mandalorian and Master Luke at dinner, Grogu in her lap as she rolled her eyes at Ben’s latest story, that maybe, this was what it felt like.

For the first time in her life, Rey felt safe every morning she woke up.

And of course, it couldn’t last forever.

The day wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. By then, she’d been on the planet for almost two months, though time felt foggy and hazy at best. After having breakfast with the Mandalorian and Grogu, she managed to beat Ben to the field for training. It was a pointless and silent competition, but still, Rey relished the sigh of disappointment when Ben saw her.

Today, they each landed a hit on Master Luke during their practice fight, and Rey led Ben in a truly stupid cheer, skipping around Master Luke in satisfaction, fists raised to the sky in triumph.

Afterward, lunch consisted of meat sandwiches and little orange berries, eaten in the field under the gloriously blue sky.

After lunch, the Mandalorian joined them, and Rey was practically humming with excitement. It was rare she and Ben got to practice against the Mandalorian together, but when they did, it was one of her favorite things.

When fighting the Mandalorian, she didn’t have to hold back. She could swing her staff with all her might, kick and punch as hard as she could, all without worrying she would hurt him. Not only was his armor impossible to even dent, but the Mandalorian was also incredibly strong, and could easily stop her staff with one hand, even with her strongest hits.

They were chasing him around the field, waving the staffs with glee, when they both froze.

Rey felt like she was going to be sick. It was like someone poured oil into her stomach, every self-preservation instinct rooted in fear that had fallen to the side in her days on Yavin suddenly flaring back to life. When she looked at Ben, he looked terrified, staring at Master Luke with wide eyes.

Master Luke stared up at the sky, the most empty expression she’d ever seen on his face.

“They found us,” he whispered. Instantly, the Mandalorian was at his side, scooping Grogu out of his limp arms.

“Who’s here, Master Luke?” whispered Ben, staring up at the blank sky. It was the same look he got after nightmares, and Rey’s hands curled into fists, her nails digging into her palm.

A split second before Master Luke spoke the words, Rey already knew the answer.

“The Empire.”

They didn’t have any time to plan an escape. One minute, the sky was empty and blue and clear. The next, the sky was shadowed by a massive, terrifying Imperial starship.

In a rush, Master Luke and the Mandalorian began to move. Master Luke ran off to the houses, pulling Ben along with him by one gentle but firm hold on Ben’s wrist.

“We have to go now,” the Mandalorian said, pulling Rey back to reality. She looked up at him with wide, confused eyes.

“We can’t run away,” she muttered. “How are we supposed to run away? They’ll never let us out alive.”

The Mandalorian shook his head. “Don’t underestimate us, kid. Come on.”

But Rey couldn’t move, glued to her spot, eyes turned up. Two battleships and a small shuttle were nearing the planet’s surface now, and the sick feeling in Rey’s stomach only grew stronger every second. But- the Mandalorian was right. They needed to go. Now.

She followed the Mandalorian to the ships, head spinning. Leia was already boarding the ship Rey arrived in, holding both the twins close to her chest as she disappeared, their little floating baby bed trailing behind her, empty.

“But I want to fight!” Ben’s voice came from under the wing of the X-Wing, and Rey looked over to see him trailing Master Luke. “I can help!”

Master Luke shook his head as the astromech from Leia’s house was loaded onto the X-Wing. “I need you with your mother, Ben. You need to protect the twins, okay? You're their big brother. They need you.”

Ben considered that then straightened up, and puffed out his chest. “I’ll protect them with my life, I promise!” Ben didn’t see the way Master Luke’s looked pained and so, so sad at the promise, but Rey did.

“Get in my ship,” the Mandalorian instructed her, stepping up behind her and gesturing to the dingy looking extra ship.

Rey turned to look up at him, baffled. “That? Why?” It looked like a hunk of junk.

The Mandalorian gave her a silent, long look. “It’s more powerful than it looks.”

Rey wasn’t sure she could believe him, but she trusted the Mandalorian, so followed his instructions and went jogging up the ramp into the ship. It was about the same size as the first ship but looked more personalized, lived in.

She stopped on the ramp to look back at Master Luke and the Mandalorian, waiting. They stood near Master Luke’s X-Wing, too far away for Rey to hear what they were saying. Finally, master Luke reached up to frame the Mandalorian’s helmet with both hands, pressing his forehead firmly to the shiny beskar. They stayed like that for a long moment.

Rey looked away, climbing the rest of the way into the ship. She sat cross-legged on the floor, huddled into herself.

The Mandalorian appeared a moment later. Alone.

“Where’s Master Luke?” Rey asked, looking behind the Mandalorian, but the exit ramp was already closing.

“X-Wing, he’ll hold them off,” the Mandalorian said, already climbing up into the cockpit. Rey followed, squeezing in behind him. He set Grogu on the only extra chair, which was decked out in what looked like a mini-seat strapped in specifically for the child.

Grogu burbled, low and sad, reaching for the Mandalorian, who ran one finger over his little head then sat down in the pilot’s seat. Rey inched over to the child, who reached out to grab her finger when she offered her hand.

As the ship rose into the air, Rey had just enough time to see the Imperial ships come into view, before the ship was wracked with blaster fire.

Grogu screeched, but the ship stayed steady, though Rey was tossed around a bit without a seatbelt or even a seat. But she clung to Grogu’s chair, and squeezed her eyes shut tight. The Mandalorian managed to get the ship under control, and when Rey looked out again, she saw the X-Wing zipping by, chasing after one of the battleships. A second later, the Imperial ship exploded. Grogu cheered, but the Mandalorian didn’t react, just kept them on a steady course up, up, up.

Rey didn’t know where they were going, or if Leia and Ben and the twins were safe, but she tried not to think about that. Leia wasn’t just anybody; she was a Senator, a member of the old rebellion. She could protect herself.

They never made it to hyperspace. Right before they could make the jump, the ship was hit hard with a shot from the Empire, and it went slanting off at a dangerous angle. Rey cowered against and around Grogu, trying to both keep him safe and hold on to his seat for her own safety.

The Mandalorian swore as the ship continued its downward spiral, its system alarms screeching, smoke clouding their view. The best the Mandalorian could do was slow their descent, the ground fast approaching.

They hit the treetops and skidded through the jungle, the ship breaking limbs and plants and vines as it came to a screeching halt. The Mandalorian was already on his feet by the time Rey stood up, legs shaky.

“Stay behind me,” said the Mandalorian, and Rey silently nodded. Grogu cried in his seat, waving his arms frantically, and Rey quickly bent down to unstrap him and lift the child into her arms. He clutched her tunic but kept his eyes trained on the Mandalorian.

The ship was a mess, but the exit ramp was still closed, at least for now. The Mandalorian stood between Rey and it, Darksaber held in one hand, a blaster in the other.

There was silence, then, suddenly, a terrifying screeching clang, like someone was trying to forcibly tear the ship open. Rey held Grogu tightly; the Mandalorian stood tall.

The troopers came in through the side of the ship, ripping it open with their shining, black, _terrifying_ strength. Their eyes glowed red, and they moved like nothing Rey had ever seen. Except- those weren’t troopers at all. They were _droids._

These were no model she knew of, but by the way Grogu cowered against her and the Mandalorian faltered, taking half a step back, they recognized the machines.

“If you can escape, run,” said the Mandalorian, not looking at Rey. “Look after him.” She knew he meant Grogu, but didn’t like the way he worded it. What was he planning to do?

The first swing of the Darksaber sliced the claws right off the droid, another took its head. But the droid was only replaced by another, and another, and Rey watched as the Mandalorian fought a losing battle against all three of the terrifying droids.

He wouldn’t win, she knew it. This wasn’t an even fight, especially not when she noticed another Imperial ship landing, out of which streamed a battalion of stormtroopers. 

She didn’t want to watch the Mandalorian lose, and didn’t want Grogu to see, either, so Rey turned away, curling over the little creature and ignoring his cries.

And then she heard the familiar hum of Master Luke’s lightsaber, and when she looked up, he was standing in the middle of smoldering droids.

“Master Luke,” she breathed, hope filling her chest. It was dangerous to hope, she _knew_ that, but if the past two months taught her anything, it was just how powerful the Jedi was.

Master Luke gave her a reassuring smile but didn’t have time to linger. More troopers were already coming in range, and Master Luke and the Mandalorian stood side by side, swords and armor the only thing shielding Rey and Grogu from certain death.

For a second, Rey thought that maybe, just maybe, they could escape.

Then, she saw more of the same black droids, two lines of terrifying power, almost three times as many as before. Even a Jedi and a Mandalorian couldn’t fight against those, could they?

Rey couldn’t actually see much of the fight, seeing as the ship was a protective shell blocked by the Mandalorian and Master Luke, but she could see enough.

She saw when a trooper’s blaster shot made it through the spinning green protection of his lightsaber and hit Master Luke in the side. She how he stumbled, even if just for a minute, only to throw himself at another of the dark droids.

She watched as a droid snapped out a claw and grabbed the Mandalorian’s blaster hand, and she _heard_ his bones snap as the claw closed shut, compressing his gloved hand against the metal of his blaster and his handplate.

The pain and fear and chaos was nearly enough to cause Rey to pass out, but the warmth and comfort of Grogu cradled close to her chest kept her from succumbing to the darkness.

When two of the dark droids pinned the Mandalorian to the exterior of the ship, Rey knew their chance of escape was as good as gone. Alone, Master Luke was still incredibly powerful, but there were just so _many_ of them.

But as the Mandalorian’s body slammed into the wreckage of the ship, Grogu suddenly went stiff. She’d been holding him with his front to her chest so he wouldn’t see the fighting, but now he wiggled around, ears flat and low.

Slowly, he raised one tiny, shaking claw, his eyes shut, every little bit of his tiny green body straining. Rey knew what this was, now. She’d seen it in training, she’d listened to Master Luke tell tales of the Force, both myth and reality. She’d watched Master Luke toss Ben in the air in play, too high and too careful to be anything but magical. She’d even seen Grogu use his powers before, in training.

Still, when the droids all slowly rose into the air, it was impossible to wrap her head around. Grogu was just so _small,_ he felt so fragile, and those droids were such pure evil.

The maneuver made the Mandalorian fall to the ground, and for one heart-wrenching moment, he didn’t get up. Master Luke, Rey, and Grogu all stared, frozen in time until finally, the Mandalorian stirred. With a groan, he pushed himself up. He had to use one hand against the wreckage of the ship to hold himself up, but he could stand.

And then another squadron of the dark droids descended from the sky.

They couldn’t do this. Rey _knew_ they couldn’t do this.

The Empire was after her. She was what they wanted. Whatever the kriffing _Admiral Karvin_ wanted, it was with her.

Rey knew what she needed to do.

As the droids landed, she carefully set Grogu down, ignoring his distressed whine. “It’s fine, it’s okay, this is better,” she muttered. “Just- you be okay. Look after them. Got it? Good.” It was a stupid goodbye, but never had she been forced to say goodbye to someone knowingly.

“Rey- Rey, get back,” Master Luke said when he saw her climbing out of the wreckage of the ship, careful not to cut herself on the jagged edges.

“I’ll be alright,” she bit out, unable to look at him _or_ the Mandalorian. “They’re after me, they just want me.”

Master Luke staggered toward, but Rey _pushed,_ and he fell back.

“Leia will come back with an escape ship-“

Rey looked up at the sky, then towards the droids steadily marching towards them. “In the next five minutes?”

The silence from Master Luke was all she needed.

A grunt from her left made her look over at the Mandalorian, wincing in sympathy. “You can’t do this,” he groaned, but his voice was barely more than a whisper.

Rey wished there was another option. But there wasn’t. “Just- say bye to Ben for me, okay?”

The Mandalorian and Master Luke reached for at the same time, but Rey was faster. She ducked away from them and stumbled away, refusing to look back or hesitate.

One, two, five, _seven steps,_ and Rey was facing the dark droids. They stared down at her with empty, red eyes, and she tried not to run.

“I surrender,” she said, trying to make her voice defiant and strong to mask just how afraid she really was.

The droids were silent. Then one of them stepped forward and grabbed her, lifting her up into its cold, metal arms. It wasn’t a gentle hold, but she refused to wince in pain. The entire squadron of droids rose into the air in one, unified line, the air whipping around Rey’s hair, pulling at the style she’d so carefully tied just that morning.

The last thing she saw was the Mandalorian and Master Luke, staring up at her as they leaned against each other for support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they are a FAMILY. and han is uh. well. i just. i knew i wouldnt be able to write him so. dw about it.  
> also it is so difficult to fit a lot of logistical details bc.. rey is. well, shes a kid. she only knows so much.  
> the next chapter is giving me sUCH a hard time to write but after that its just one more that'll be easy to write :) we in the home stretch boys


	6. chapter 6: lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatever they did to her, it smothered every whisper of her dreams.

Rey was exhausted. 

There wasn’t a better way to put it; no silver lining she could find, no light at the end of the tunnel she could cling to. Her arms ached; the doctors did little to soothe the pain of her procedures. The rings of bruising around her ankles, wrists, and neck were persistent, and she had no strength left in her frail body to ease the pain herself.

She couldn’t remember how long she’d been in the Imperial ship. Every day was so similar they all blended together. Or maybe it was the light sessions… Rey didn’t know. 

The light sessions, as she called them, took place in the same medical suite as the blood draws. They were simple: the doctors placed a large helmet over her head, and left her to stare at a display of blinking red lights and listen to low, barely audible tones. It was hypnotic, but not painful, and it was one of the few times Rey was able to retreat into herself and try to find some connection to the Force, just like Master Luke barely had the chance to teach her to do.

It never worked. She felt not even a glimmer of the same power and energy that thrummed through her when she healed, or when she’d thrown the guards back. The lights were soothing, _too_ soothing; they cut her grasp on reality and left her floating in her own mind, so so alone.

After each session, she felt sleepy and lethargic, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. Rey wasn’t sure what the lights did, but she could only hope they were to heal rather than hurt, even if she knew how unlikely that was.

She’d tried not to look at them, once. She’d closed her eyes tight, but seconds later the doctors pulled the helmet up and ordered her to watch. When she refused, they held her eyelids open with small pieces of adhesive. That session gave her none of the usual drowsiness. After that session, Rey had to be hauled back to her cell by a dark trooper, since she’d been too dizzy to stand.

She stopped fighting so much after that. And the routine began to blur together into an all-encompassing existence.

Wake up. Eat. Follow the dark troopers (as she now knew they were called) and don’t fight against the cuffs. Blood drawn. Stare at the lights. Return to cell. Eat. Sleep.

Repeat.

It left very little room for counting minutes. hours, days.

The cell she now lived in was identical to the first one she’d been thrown in, but this time, she knew she wasn’t alone. If she pushed herself up and crawled over to the vent in the wall (impossible to pry off; she’d tried) and knocked three times with her shaking fist, she knew three knocks would echo back. If she knocked twice, the same.

Whether it was her imagination or something else more real, Rey knew the presence on the other side of her cell wall wasn’t her enemy.

No words were exchanged, but the simple fact that someone was on the other side of the wall was at least a small iota of comfort. She didn’t know if the source of the knocks was a droid or a person, maybe a prisoner like her.

The knocking was all they exchanged. It was a superficial and imprecise means of communication, but it was more comfort than anything else on the ship.

But today, Rey was too tired for even that simple action. She was even almost too tired to eat the dismal bowl of slop and dull brown ration bar sitting on the floor next to her.

Almost.

They never gave her any utensils, but she was more accustomed to eating without them than with utensils. The few weeks she’d spent learning table manners wasn’t nearly enough to erase years of living on her own in the desert. So she never hesitated to use her fingers to wipe her bowl clean, then lick her hands and swallow the small cup of water she received with every meal.

After eating, she left the bowl on the ground and crawled up onto the ledge at the farthest from the door wall of her cell. There was no pillow but her thin arms for her to rest on, but nonetheless, Rey curled up as best she could and tried to let sleep take her.

Maybe, if she was lucky, she would dream of green grass and silver armor and blue eyes and ridiculous green ears and a child’s toothy green.

She was never so lucky.

The last session with the lights had left her so tired she could barely lift her head, but still her feet had carried her back to her cell. The exhaustion was impossible to escape, and it wasn’t just physical. No, even her thoughts were slow, her emotions dampened by the heavy mental fog.

Whatever they did to her, it smothered every whisper of her dreams. She guessed it was the lights, but neither the doctors nor Karvin nor any of her guards would give her any answers. At first, it had been a comfort to escape her constant nightmares, but her dreamless sleep soon became a burden. She would’ve even welcomed fear and danger compared to the bone-deep ache of loneliness and despair the ship drowned her in.

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing Rey knew, a stormtrooper was nudging her side with the muzzle of his blaster, commanding her to stand up so it could clamp the numbing cuffs to her wrists.

Even with the rough awakenings, they always at least fed her. The food was bland and made her stomach cramp, but it wasn’t the worst thing she’d eaten.

But today, the trooper dragged her out without so much as a crumb or a drop of water. The usual four dark troopers fell in around them, and while Rey knew better than to struggle, she couldn’t help but twist out of the storm trooper’s grasp and walk on her own.

She’d made the march to the medical suite so many times she could’ve done it in her sleep. So when they turned right instead of left, and went down an elevator instead of up, Rey’s anxiety began to climb. She knew from experience dark troopers either didn’t or couldn’t talk, and storm troopers never answered her questions. Whether that was because they were good at keeping secrets or just didn’t know, Rey couldn’t be sure. She guessed it was the latter.

Her anxieties only grew when they entered an unfamiliar room. It was clean, white, and well polished, and was furnished by a small bench built into the wall and a second, small room (a closet, maybe?) built into the other side with no door. There was a small stack of what looked like clothes and a pair of boots on the bench.

The blaster nudged her in the back, pulling Rey out of her thoughts. “Get cleaned up, get dressed,” the stormtrooper grunted, as it stepped around to pull off her cuffs. The door swished shut behind it and she heard the deadlock seal her in.

She went to the small extra room. When she stepped inside, nothing happened. There was a small control panel to her left though, consisting of four buttons. She pressed one, and suddenly, water poured out of a vent in the ceiling.

This was a _shower._

Back on Yavin, she’d learned the joys of warm showers. While her room didn’t have one, apparently the houses all did, and on her third day, Master Luke had shuffled her into the back room of the Mandalorian’s house and into a third, smaller room. He’d given her basic instructions, then left her to fend for herself.

Coming from the desert, water was a rarity to Rey. It was for drinking. You didn’t swim or play or wash things in it. You kept it safe. Treasured it.

But on Yavin, she’d learned she could spend an entire hour just sitting under the warm spray of the shower until her fingers were all wrinkled and the steam was so thick she could barely breathe.

Quickly, Rey stripped out of her dirty clothes. They were the same she’d worn on Jakku. Master Luke and Leia both tried to offer her new ones, but she’d refused. They were her last little piece of the desert.

Now, she wished she’d accepted their offer. She wished she had a piece of Yavin.

Her wet clothes discarded, Rey dragged her fingers through her hair to pull it apart. The looped hairstyle Leia taught her was barely recognizable, but it still made her heart twinge to pull it down and out completely.

The shower had no cleaning products of any kind, and she wasn’t sure how long she had, so Rey didn’t let herself linger. After doing her best to clean off, she pressed another button on the control panel. The water instantly turned ice cold, and she bit back a whimper as she smashed all four buttons at once button. The water shut off.

Shivering and exposed, Rey pulled on her still wet tunic and pants, then remembered the pile of clothes she’d seen on the bench. Her feet made little wet slaps on the smooth floor as she ran over to investigate.

The first thing she noticed as a towel, and immediately grabbed it to rub her hair dry. It was more absorbent than anything she’d ever felt, and she took a second to pat her body dry, too.

After raking her hair back and away from her face, she lifted each article of clothing carefully.

The outfit looked… Imperial, to say the least. It was in all grey, smooth and stiff and _military._ It consisted of black underclothes, slim pants, a black long sleeve shirt, and a stiff jacket with square shoulders and a deathly tight collar. But as much as she didn’t want to wear the clothes, she knew she could either dress herself or be forcibly dressed. She pulled the clothes on.

The shirt at least wasn’t uncomfortable, and neither were the underclothes. The socks were the best part, thick and warm against the cold floor. But the pants and jacket were scratchy and stiff, and Rey squirmed against the collar. She pulled on the black boots and already hated how stiff they were. The last item was a black belt, and she carefully wrapped it around her waist and clipped its silver buckle.

There wasn’t anywhere with a reflective enough surface to look at herself, but Rey knew what she looked like. The outfit was small to fit her stature, but it was unmistakably an Imperial officer’s uniform.

While she waited for the door to open again, she sat on the floor by the door. The pants were too stiff to sit crossed legged, so she sat with her legs stretched out straight as she closed her eyes and breathed.

Rey knew this was no place to meditate, but she tried nonetheless. She was too exhausted to try very hard, but she still slowed her breathing and cleared her mind, and tried to remember how to lean into the ebb and flow of the energies around her, just like Master Luke taught her.

With every last cell of energy, she reached out into the cosmos, into herself, into the stars, and towards warmth and love and green grass. She pushed herself thin, spreading every last scrap of consciousness

For a second, for _just a second,_ Rey felt something. It was only an echo, the ghost of fingertips against the back of her hand, but it was _there._

And just as she found it, the static darkness of unconsciousness clawed its way through her body and mind, and she slumped to the floor.

**Rey-** ****

“Wake up, child.”

Admiral Karvin’s voice was as cold as ever, but Rey no longer shivered when hearing it.

“I said wake _up.”_ The smack against her cheek whipped Rey’s head around, and she grit her teeth as she slowly turned to look up at Karvin. There was a table between them but Karvin leaned over it with one gloved hand planted firmly on it to hold himself up. The other hovered by her face, clenched in a fist.

“Do not make me repeat my orders again,” he growled, then stepped back.

Rey didn’t both saying anything back.

Since her recapture, she’d seen Karvin maybe a dozen times. And every time, all he did was give her pointless orders or say something cryptic or just _lurk._ She hated it. But now, Rey had practice ignoring him.

“And _pay attention when spoken to.”_ His gloved hand grabbed her chin, turning her face to stare at him. “My master does not take lightly to insubordination.”

While Karvin’s voice no longer made Rey shiver, every mention of _his master_ did. He never gave her any details, but from what she could haltingly piece together, he was who pulled the puppet strings attached to Karvin’s shoulders.

And Rey didn’t want to think about what that could mean.

While maintaining eye contact, she mentally surveyed her surroundings. The room had the same dark, smooth walls and floor as her cell, but was twice as large. She was sitting in a cold, hard chair, but neither her ankles nor her wrists were cuffed. Her hair hung limp but dry, which meant she must’ve been out for at least an hour, maybe two.

Karvin cleared his throat, and she pulled her focus back to his sallow face. After holding her gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment, fingers digging into her jaw, Karvin stepped back.

“Today begins your training,” he said, as he started to walk his usual slow, ominous circles around her chair. “My master has decided you are ready.”

Wait. What? Rey’s confusion got the better of her, and she turned to stare at him, eyes narrowed. But still, she didn’t speak.

Karvin came up behind her chair, and Rey had to bite her tongue to keep from shivering when his gloved hands fell to her shoulders. The uniform jacket was awful and stiff and she hated it, but at least it offered more protection from the nauseating touch than her own tunic.

“You will not fail,” he said, voice low and menacing. “You will succeed.”

Rey’s eyes fell shut, and her stomach churned.

Karvin lingered, then pulled back. “Good.” He turned to the wall, pressing a seemingly invisible button. A panel opened, and he stepped back with a strange device in his hands.

It looked like a long box with a small screen running along one side, and Rey eyed it as he set it on the table in front of her. But no matter her mild curiosity, she kept her lips shut.

Karvin looked at her with a blank look, then reached to the end of the object and pressed a button.

The sight of the familiar red lights made Rey’s hands clench in her lap.

Saying nothing, Karvin stepped back, clasping his hands being his back as he stood motionless in front of her. Rey paid him little mind, too focused on the lights.

They weren’t the same exact lights as the sessions with the helmet. With the helmet, it was impossible to look anywhere else, and even with her eyes closed, the red still seeped into her vision. But with the small box, barely a meter long and maybe as wide as her hand, there was nothing forcing Rey to watch the little red flashes as they traveled back and forth.

And yet… she couldn’t look anywhere else. She didn’t even _want_ to look anywhere else. It was the same mental fog she’d felt before, like a haze erasing the specifics and details of her very own thoughts.

The fight wasn’t just sapped out of Rey, it felt like she never even needed it in the first place. The thought was enough of a shock to pull her focus away from the lights, but her gaze remained fix on them. A small noise of frustration escaped her throat, and after a moment of intense effort, her eyes snapped shut.

“Open your eyes,” Karvin commanded, and Rey obeyed.

She blinked slowly at the lights. The lights blinked back at her.

She didn’t even know what she was supposed to be doing.

Karvin gave her no instructions, just stood in front of her and watched, his gaze heavy on her shoulders.

**Rey…** ****

She jerked back in her chair, pushing the table with both hands. It went flying into the opposite wall, trapping Karvin’s legs. He swore violently and kicked the table back, but Rey’s hands were still raised and it froze not a hairsbreadth from her palms.

Karvin’s hissing swears stopped, and his thin lips pulled into a grimacing smile. “And here I was starting to believe you were just too weak.” His voice dripped in bile, and it poured cold dread into Rey’s stomach.

She stared at her hands, at the table, then clenched her fists.

“Now do it again,” Karvin commanded.

Rey stared up at him, then stood slowly from her chair. The fog was still clinging to her mind, too thick to shake off, but she pushed it away as best she could.

“I _said,”_ Karvin hissed, “ _do it again.”_

Rey squeezed her fists as tightly as she could until her nails dug into her palms and she could feel the skin break. The lights blinked, enticing, comforting, but she kept her eyes on Karvin. It took so much effort she was breathing heavy, her breath coming in hisses through her clenched teeth.

A click of his boots brought Karvin closer, up to the table, and he leaned over it once again. “Do-“ he grabbed her face in his hand, “-it-“ he grabbed one of her wrists with his other hand, “-again!” He spit the final words into her face, and Rey gagged when she felt saliva stick to her nose and cheek.

And then his body slammed into the opposite wall and crumpled to the floor.

Rey didn’t even realize she’d pulled away from his grasp, let alone pushed him away. But her hands hovered in front of her body, shaking with residual power. It was similar to when she healed herself, only _electric,_ crawling with static and itching to be released again.

With a grown, Karvin pulled himself to his feet. But where she expected to see anger, he was smiling.

“Again,” he hissed, and Rey recoiled when she saw blood dripping from his nose.

This time, she shoved him away before he could lay another finger on her, but the push wasn’t as strong. He even managed to maintain his footing, and a hollow laugh shook his shoulders.

Rey felt sick.

He opened his mouth, but before he could issue the repeated command, Rey pushed him back yet again, a small sob clawing its way out of her mouth as she did.

And still, he was laughing as he pushed himself up and staggered towards her. “How does it feel,” he snarled, voice rough with visible pain, “to wield your power at full potential?”

Instead of pushing him away, Rey took a step back, but her calf hit the chair. She stepped back again, pushing it back with a metallic screech against the floor.

“How does it feel,” Karvin continued, each step slow and labored. “to fight without the hindrance of emotions?”

His words made her stomach churn even more, their meaning turning over and over and over. Each shove had been like a time skip a second into the future, the time in between blurry at best. She couldn’t remember how she’d pulled out of his grasp, or raising her hands to push him away. The fog was too thick. She could move, but it was like she was moving on autopilot, no thoughts or feelings guiding her body.

Now her silence felt choking, but no words formed in Rey’s throat. Where before the silence felt like her own, now it felt like someone had reached into her chest and plucked out her voice. The fog curled around every word she tried to push past her lips, obscuring them before they were ever spoken.

Every step Karvin took towards her, Rey took another back, until her back hit the wall and she was trapped between his looming frame and an unrelenting, cold smoothness.

“You don’t have to fight for your freedom anymore,” he crooned, tilting his head to peer at her but not reaching out. “You don’t have to think for yourself. Give in, and my master will give you immeasurable power.”

Rey remained frozen, her vision swimming, her head pounding. The tight collar of her jacket felt like it was choking off her airway, but her hands hung limp at her sides, unable to reach up and tear it away.

**Rey!**

With a final gasp, she shoved Karvin away again, and his body hit the wall with a sickening crack and fell to the floor.

She was unconscious before her own body hit the floor, but the urgency in Master Luke’s voice calling her name clung to the edges of Rey’s thoughts. Even the fog couldn’t pull it away.

**We will find you, Rey. I promise.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i lied i extended this one more chapter bc i could not physically leave finn out  
> rewatched the prequels for the first time since they came out in theater and remembered how mad finns treatment made me  
> so. lets go boys :) next chapter :) he arrives :)  
> and then one more thats 50% written already and we're done!


	7. chapter 7: memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I knew we’d reach you!”_
> 
> _She looks down at dark curls, wide eyes, and a toothy grin. “What are you doing here, Ben?” Her voice feels intangible, more like a breath than verbal tones._
> 
> _“We’ve been searching for you, obviously!” he laughs._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is borderline incomprehensible. good luck!

_She is six, and her father lays on the bed, motionless. Her mother cries over his body, and Rey would step closer if not for the invisible force radiating from her parents, pushing her body away, away, away._

_But as her mother weeps, her hands work carefully over his armor, pulling gently at each piece, pushing the vest away and letting the whole thing clatter to the floor. Her mother’s hands do not shake as she pulls her father’s helmet off, but her shoulders tremble as Rey watches her press their foreheads together._

_After a moment, her father gasps, and her mother falls against his heaving chest._

_The invisible force pulls away, and Rey runs to her parents._

_She is six, and she does not understand why they must move again. She does not understand why her mother must pull up her mask and pull down her wood, why her father must hide his armor in a dingy sack, why he cannot wear it so proudly like he always does._

_Her mother holds her close, and Rey clings to her shoulders. Her father does not speak as they run through the night. He does not say a word as they board a small ship, her mother glancing behind them but holding Rey’s face against her neck._

_Her father disappears, and they raise into the air. Her mother does not let go._

_She is six, and she does not know why they cannot stop running. She doesn’t even remember a time_ before _the running._

_And then-_

_And then she is seven, crying into her hands as she sits on dry, hot sand, missing her parents so much she doesn’t know how to stand under the weight of it._

_And she is eight, a cuff on her ankle, and she knows she cannot escape again because the Hutt added a tracker to the cuff. And so she is stuck, stuck and alone with no chance of escape or rescue._

_And she is eight, nine, ten, and she remembers her parents less and less every day. She wonders if they will ever return to her, and though she doesn’t believe it, she promises herself they will._

_And she is eleven, and free of the Hutt, and grinning from ear to ear as she stands under the desert sun. Because she may be alone, but she is free. Her freedom might mean little, but at least it is hers._

_And she is twelve, singing a silly birthday ditty on a random day of a random month to the head of an astromech she found._

_And she is thirteen, and she begins to admit to believing her parents aren’t coming to get her. She wonders if they ever even intended to._

_And she is fourteen, and Master Luke came because she called._

_And he smiles at her so brightly when she heels her own scraped knee during training._

_And the Mandalorian chuckles a low, warm laugh when she balances Grogu on her head._

_And Ben throws berries at the back of her head at dinner and Leia scolds him and she is so surrounded by love she doesn’t know what to do._

_She is fourteen and for the first time, sitting at a wooden table between a Mandalorian and a Jedi, she wonders if she can stop running, stop hiding._

**Rey?** ****

_She is-_

_She is fourteen, fourteen and standing in a field of green._

_“Rey!”_

_She starts to turn around only to have a boy run straight into her, knocking the wind out of her and making her stumble backward._

_“I knew we’d reach you!”_

_She looks down at dark curls, wide eyes, and a toothy grin. “What are you doing here, Ben?” Her voice feels intangible, more like a breath than verbal tones._

_“We’ve been searching for you, obviously!” he laughs. He steps back and looks behind him. Rey follows his gaze and only then notices Master Luke standing behind Ben. He looks tired, but he is smiling with his entire being._

_“Hello, Rey,” he says, stepping forward. “I’m so glad we finally found you.”_

_She doesn’t understand. “But I’m here.”_

_Master Luke steps closer to her, and Ben steps to his side. “And where is_ here, _Rey?” asks Master Luke, and Rey blinks._

_“The field on-“ she stops. She looks around._

_The field is there. She can see it. She can. The woods may be- they are imprecise, she cannot make out trees. She cannot find the main building, the houses. She can only see a mass of vague shapes._

_But she can see the_ field. _The grass is-_

_She cannot feel the grass._

_She looks down and sees her own shiny black boots, stiff grey pants tucked into them. She cannot feel the grass or the wind through the Imperial uniform. She can only feel the cold floor of her cell._

_With a gasp, she lurches forward, and Master Luke catches her. His chest is warm against her forehead. She can feel that, at least. She can feel his grip on her shoulders. She can feel Ben’s small hand on her arm._

_“Breathe, young one,” Master Luke soothes, and Rey does. She gasps in air, clinging to Master Luke’s robes, digging her fingertips into the fabric._

_She cannot feel the grass, she cannot feel the breeze, but she can feel her family clutching her sobbing body._

_But when she looks up, they are already fading. The background haze pulls through them, pulls them away from Rey’s grasp, and she is frozen in place._

_“Rey!” they both shout, but the mist of their hands evaporates before they can grab onto Rey’s outstretched fingers._

Rey sat bolt upright, gasping for air, clutching at a nonexistent body in front of her. But her fingers grasped nothing, and she fell back against the wall of her cell.

Her dreams were back, there was no doubt about it. If only she could remember… But there was nothing. There never was.

With a groan, she slumped low against the wall, letting out a long breath.

A handful of days had passed since that first “training” session with Karvin.

Time still felt blurry, hazy, difficult to discern, but Rey had been trying to put more effort into being aware of her surroundings and situation. She’d grown inattentive and lazy, and even the mental haze and the exhaustion weren’t a good enough excuse.

Now, her days had one more component. The first thing the troopers dragged her off to do, always before her meals, was to sit in a room with Karvin until she snapped and sent him flying against the wall; over and over and over, until she dropped from exhaustion.

And each session, the unconscious use of her powers happened more and more quickly. Every session, it took less effort on Karvin’s part to trigger the response. During the latest session, Karvin hadn’t even used the small lights.

Even though she knew what was happening, Rey still couldn’t seem to fight it. Her mind still felt hazy, even with the dreams. They offered brief moments of clarity, but the clarity disappeared by the time the troopers closed the cuffs around her wrists.

As she stood in the elevator, Rey closed her eyes and tried to promise herself she would fight the power that seemed to control her more than she controlled it.

She tried to promise herself she wouldn’t leave Admiral Karvin in a broken heap again. Even if she knew he must have been receiving top-level medical care to always return the next day good as new, watching his body fall limp made Rey sick to her stomach.

So she promised herself today would be different.

It wasn’t.

A stormtrooper locked the numbing cuffs over her shaking wrists, and Rey watched Karvin wipe the blood from his lips as he lay broken on the floor.

By the time they’d emptied her of her blood and fed her the same bland rations, Rey’s entire body felt like it was being pulled apart by just the pressure of her stiff uniform.

But as Rey lay on her back on the floor of her cell, too tired to even climb up onto the ledge she usually slept on, her dream came creeping back to her.

Ben. Master Luke.The green field.

Rey gulped, and suddenly she missed them so much it hurt more than any needles, more than any troopers blaster, more than any clawed grip around her jaw. It hurt so badly she curled onto her side and cried, a broken noise that echoed around her usually silent cell.

“…Hello?”

Rey froze at the single word, a sob lodged in her throat.

A pause, then-

A knock. Another. Three in total.

The presence at the other side of the wall. That mysterious, voiceless comfort.

On some instinct Rey was too tired to be aware of, she pulled herself towards the vent in the wall. With one shaking hand, she hit her knuckles against the wall. One, two, three.

“Can you hear me?” the voice came again, and Rey inhaled so sharply she nearly choked on her own breath. Unable to speak, she tapped her knuckles against the wall again.

“Can you talk?” the voice asked.

Rey tried to open her mouth, but no words came out. Her throat felt dry, unused. With great effort, she swallowed and tried again.

“…I can talk,” she managed to push out, and it was like she could feel the relief through the wall.

“Are you hurt?” The voice sounded young, but masculine and full, nothing like Ben’s erratic tone.

Determined, Rey pushed herself up to lean against the wall, forcing herself to push through her own mental haze. “I’m fine,” she said, then knocked on the wall for good measure.

The other knocked back. Another moment of silence, then- “What’s your name?”

Rey closed her eyes, reaching into herself to draw strength. She had no reason to trust this mystery person, not really. But… but she knew now that her gut feelings were more than guesses, more than luck.

So she said, “Rey. What’s yours?”

The voice was quiet for a long minute, and Rey’s hand was already raised to knock again before the answer again.

“I think it’s Finn.”

A warmth so small and so faint it was almost nothing at all blossomed in Rey’s chest, and she did everything she could to latch onto it.

“It’s… it’s good to meet you. Finn.” The name felt warm on her tongue, and her hand tingled as she rapped her knuckles against the wall two more times.

The other person - Finn - knocked twice. “You too.”

For the first time since she’d surrendered herself to those terrible dark troopers, Rey’s lips curved up in a small smile as she drifted off to sleep.

_She is standing in the field but she does not open her eyes. She does not want to face the confusing blurred background, does not want to be faced with her inability to feel her surroundings._

_The hand on her shoulder does not make her jump, because she is too tired to waste energy on such a reaction._

_“You are so far away,” Master Luke whispers, and she does not answer. “It’s like your mind is dormant, your energy muted.”_

_She does not react, does not turn around to lean into his comforting voice._

_“I cannot find you,” he whispers. “I can feel you, but I cannot find you. Where are you, young one?” At that, his voice breaks, and she wants to weep, wants to wrap her arms around him and never let go, but she cannot._

_“I will keep trying,” he says, after a moment. “I will not give up.”_

Now, Rey’s days were punctuated by weak conversations with Finn. Neither of them ever said much; they asked if the other was okay, and they both lied and said they were. It was no friendship, no relationship of any kind. But it was more comfort than anything else the Imperial prison had to offer.

A blurred amount of days after learning Finn’s name, Karvin was late to their training.

And when he did show up, he wasn’t alone. Walking of his own free will, free of troopers but one of Karvin’s claws on his shoulder was a boy who couldn’t have been older than Rey herself.

He wore the same uniform she did, but unlike her, a hat just like Karvin’s own was shoved low on his close-cropped hair. His shoulders were tense, his jaw set, eyes hidden in the shadow of the hat.

Rey couldn’t tell if it was the light of the room, pale and washed out as it was, but there was a pallor to his dark skin Rey knew came only from prolonged suffering and lack of physical care. Her own skin was tinged with the same ashen hue; sickly and weak.

“Today marks the second step in your training,” Karvin hummed, as he left the boy to stand by the door. He stepped towards Rey, standing beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder. She almost shrugged it off but stopped herself. With how easily Karvin triggered her powers, she needed to be more in control.

“This…” Karvin said, gesturing to the boy, “Is Subject Eight-Seven. He is to be your new opponent.”

Never before had Rey so badly wanted to spit words of hate at Karvin. But even now, she couldn’t. She watched, silent, as Karvin stepped back.

He stood against the wall, then looked to the boy. “Attack her,” he said, pointing at Rey.

The boy turned to Rey, and she couldn’t help but flinch back from his gaze. It was empty, with no emotion to speak of. With stiff, droid-like movements, the boy raised his hand up, then pushed.

The table slammed into Rey’s stomach so hard she nearly threw up from the pressure. Her hands flew up to push the table away, but it didn’t budge.

The boy took another step toward her, his other hand coming up to join the first, and Rey felt a sudden clawing pressure at her throat, closing off her airway and sealing her lungs shut.

As always, the boy hit the wall before Rey realized she’d thrown out a hand in retaliation.

Karvin’s glee was a sick miasma that curled around Rey as he laughed.

But she didn’t have time to focus on him, because the boy was already back on his feet, hands raised, the same choking sensation already starting to wrap around her throat. 

This time, she fought it. She clenched her jaw and raised a hand, and didn’t blink as she _pushed,_ and with a shout, she flung the boy up against the ceiling. His head hit the surface with a jarring crack, and his body fell like a dead weight as Rey’s hand fell limp.

She stood, frozen, as the boy pushed himself up. His eyes were still that dull blank, but his mouth was set in a scowl. He raised his hand, and Rey stumbled back, but the shove wasn’t enough to topple her. She hurled herself forward, using all her energy to push the boy straight into the opposite wall. For a brutal second, his body remained pressed against the wall, frozen in pain. Then, Rey collapsed, and the boy dropped in a heap to the floor.

“Finish this,” Karvin commanded, and when Rey looked up from where she’d fallen to her knees, the boy was slumped against the opposite wall, hat on the floor beside him, chest heaving.

She stared at him, open-mouthed and panting.

He stared back at her, and- and it was like he could finally see her. He blinked, then his gaze snapped to her. There was… there was _something._ The feeling. The instinct. The itch that told her to trust the Mandalorian, so very long ago. The itch that curled around Ben and made her want to protect him. The warmth of Master Luke’s smile, the steadiness of Leia’s hand on her shoulder.

Whoever this boy was, she could _feel_ him. And what she could feel, she already trusted, despite their confrontation mere seconds ago.

Just like the presence on the other side of her cell wall, the comfort of Finn’s faint voice. 

But she didn’t have time to connect the two thoughts, because then the look disappeared from the boy's face, and he slumped over, eyes closed.

She didn’t mention the boy to Finn that night, just knocked and whispered a quiet goodnight, nothing more. And when she didn’t hear anything back, Rey tried not to fear the worst. She tried not to think about it as she fell asleep, exhausted and haunted by the look in the boy’s eyes when he raised his hand in attack.

And then, the very next day, the boy threw his hand out towards Karvin instead of Rey.

The effect was instantaneous. The door slammed open, and dark troopers dragged the boy off without even a word from Karvin.

That night, Rey crawled to the vent with a newfound determination.

“Are you there?” she called, voice quiet but firm. “Please. Please be there.” The second part was quiet, more hesitant.

It took so long for Finn to respond Rey was about ready to give up.

“I’m here.” His voice was weak, but it sent a wave of relief through Rey.

Too tired to mince words or avoid the point, Rey said, “Is it you?” She didn’t clarify. She knew she didn’t need to. She knew what the boy’s powers were, and she knew that Finn’s presence was very real, something she could reach out and touch, even if it wasn’t with her fingers. She knew what that meant.

Still, his answer sent a feeble thrill through her all the same.

“It’s me.”

Rey swallowed, then smiled. It felt strange.

“Okay.”

Silence stretched between them, and Rey was about to climb up onto her ledge and fall asleep when Finn spoke.

“Do they take your blood, too?”

The question made Rey blink, then sit up a bit and shake herself awake. “Yes. I don’t know why.”

She felt a twinge of fear curl around her heart as if it were seeping through the wall from the other side. “They want to create Force-powered soldiers,” Finn said, and despite the fear so strong she could taste it, his voice was even.

“Is that what you are?” the question fell out of her mouth before she realized.

“No,” Finn said, and Rey sighed in relief. “I don’t think the experiment is working. It’s why they take so much blood.”

Even though Rey had no idea how Finn would know that, the thought of the Empire failing was more than a little satisfactory. Even if it meant she was subjected to more pain, at least they weren’t succeeding.

“What about the lights?” Again, she didn’t explain.

She felt Finn withdraw, and she almost apologized but didn’t have the time. “I think I heard a doctor call them emotional inhibitors, once. But they can erase memories, too. Eventually.”

Rey’s thoughts were already so hazy, she didn’t want to lose any of the precious memories she held so close to her heart. Her memories of her parents had grown and improved in recent months, but they were still so _broken._ And the idea of losing her memories of Master Luke and Ben and The Mandalorian and the others?

It made her throat tighten, and she coughed before asking, “Have they erased any of your memories?” She thought of him saying, _“I think it’s Finn.”_ Suddenly, she didn’t want him to answer.

But he did. “I don’t remember a time before this.”

The thought made her blood run cold, and Rey wished she could reach through the wall, reach and grab Finn’s hand like she did with Ben, and just… hold on.

“Have you tried to escape?” she asked instead.

“Yes. ”

She swallowed a breath. She didn’t need to ask how it went; his presence in the cell and his dead eyes in the training room were enough of an answer.

“Maybe we could try. Together.” The hope wasn’t a strong one, and Rey didn’t even know why she suggested it.

Finn didn’t answer, then knocked twice, and Rey knew the conversation was over. They were both too tired for hope.

Rey wasn’t satisfied, but even with her mind in the state it was, at least one small piece of her shattered puzzle could connect. At least she knew she wasn’t alone. Finn was there, and he understood.

But her heart ached for home as she fell asleep.

_“…Master Luke says we shouldn’t give up,” he says, and she cannot bear to witness this, but closing her eyes does nothing to block out his voice and her hands remain frozen in place._

_“He says you’re still out there, but… but it’s been almost two_ weeks _and we still haven’t found you.”_

_She does not want to listen to this. She does not want to be in the field._

_“He says you’re-“ and then he pauses, and she wants to cry, because as much as she didn’t want to listen, now she cannot live without Ben’s fragile voice._

_And then small arms wrap around her shoulders. “You_ are _here,” he whispers. His voice is too full of wonder and determination. She knows how dangerous those emotions are._

_She cannot speak, so she does not respond, and she is too weak to lift her arms, so she does not move._

_He does not let go until he fades away, leaving her alone._

The next day, a pair of dark troopers followed the boy into the training room, and for the first time, Karvin exited the room, leaving Rey to stare at… Finn. Because she knew who he was now.

But when she looked into his eyes, she saw warmth, recognition. The blank look fell into place a second later, but Rey _knew_ now that the vacant look could be broken.

That didn’t mean she held back from the fight. Even without Karvin’s commands, Finn’s attacks were brutal. He flung Rey against the wall, and the back of her head snapped backward, pain shooting down her spine, and her arms tingled. But she kicked out with one foot and sent Finn skidding along the floor.

They might have been something leaning towards allies in their cells, but now, they needed to fight. Neither of them stood a chance against the dark troopers, and Rey knew they were both well aware of the fact. So they needed to follow orders.

They fought until they were both gasping, leaning against the walls for support. But when she glanced over at him, Finn was staring directly at her from under the shadow of his hat. His gaze was strong, intense, but Rey met it with confidence, the corner of her mouth twisting up.

That night, she and Finn didn’t talk. But she fell asleep on the floor next to the vent instead of on her ledge, and though she had no proof, she knew Finn did the same.

_“We found the starship.”_

_She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t have followed Master Luke down the hall. She should have stayed in her room. She shouldn’t be standing with her ear pressed to the door of Master Djarin’s room. But when she had felt Master Luke’s urgency when he walked past her room, she_ knew _what that meant._

_“Where?” she hears Master Djarin say, the hiss of his helmet falling into place._

_“Unknown regions, Ilum System.” Master Luke’s voice is almost frantic, and it makes her stomach flip. Besides her mom, Master Luke is the most fearless person she knows. Well, maybe except Master Djarin, too._

_“I’ll get the ship ready. Tell your sister we’re leaving.”_

_She doesn’t have time to react before the door swishes open, and Master Luke and Master Djarin stare down at her._

_“Ben, what are you doing awake?” asks Master Luke._

_“I-“ she stammers, but no excuse comes out. “You said you found the ship!”_

_Master Luke rests his hands on her shoulders. “We did. And we’re going to go rescue her. But you can’t come with us, you know what.”_

_She feels tears of frustration build up, and her fists clench at her sides. “You better not fail this time,” she says, and the regret and sorrow and remorse practically drip from Master Luke’s sad smile._

_“I promise, Ben. We will rescue Rey, no matter what it takes.”_

She woke up with a gasp and stumbled off her ledge, panting as her heart pounded against her ribs.

They’d found her. They’d found her and- and they were-

Rey swallowed back a sob and blinked rapidly to clear the distortion in her vision and to push the fog away from her thoughts as it threatened to take the last residual scraps of her dream out of her clutching hands.

The familiar haze started to descend upon her, and she violently shoved herself backward, stumbling into the wall as she gripped her skull with both hands.

_I’m here!_ she called out into the aching static of her own mind. _I’m here!_ she screamed against the darkness, against the blurred edges of her consciousness, against the weight on her chest. _I’m here! s_ he shouted into the darkness as she fell to her knees, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white and her fingernails dug _hard_ into her palm.

_I’m here,_ she sobbed as she doubled over, arms hugging her torso as she pressed her forehead against the cold floor. _I’m here, I’m here._

She was still crying into the floor when the stormtrooper pulled her up and cuffed her and hauled her from her cell. She no longer remembered the source of the tears, but still, they dripped down her nose and onto her boots as she marched down the hall.

And yet, even with the tears, a spark began to glow with life deep inside her. It was too small to notice, yet, but it grew stronger every second.

Again, Karvin left the training room. Again, she and Finn battered each other until they couldn’t stand, their eyes meeting as they stood on opposite sides of the room.

And though Rey no longer remembered how to hope, her body ached with the warmth of a promise that would soon be fulfilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ONE MORE which is written and ready 2 go   
> then this uh. whatever this is. will be done.   
> thanks for sticking around :">


	8. chapter 8: rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sight of shining armor and a dark cloak made Rey’s heart clench, her frozen body _aching_ for the comfort the sight gave her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FINAL MOMENTS.....

The air in her cell felt heavy and thick, and it clung to the back of her neck and her shoulders and crawled down her spine and into her stomach. Dread hung on every bone in her body, and Rey’s entire body felt tense, her own unhinged power thrumming through her.

The troopers were late to drag her off to training.

Rey had been awake for what felt like at least an hour, and yet there wasn’t a single appearance from an Imperial officer or trooper of any kind. No food, no cuffs, nothing. The cell was silent save for the low hum of the ship she’d long since tuned out. But now, with the seconds ticking by, it was all she could think to focus on.

There was an itch in the back of her mind, but it was too faint to intentionally pull into focus. Instead, she shifted uncomfortably on her ledge, then got up to pace back and forth, buzzing with energy.

She’d adjusted to starting her days with combat. This lack of anything at all happening was unnerving at best.

With static still buzzing between her ears, Rey crouched by the vent in the wall. She and Finn never spoke before their combat training, some unsaid rule neither addressed. But the feeling in her whole body would not relent, and she needed to _do_ something.

“Finn?” she called, then tapped on the vent one, twice.

She waited, but no answer.

“Are you there?” she tried again, but still there was nothing, not even a flicker of feeling from the other side of the wall.

Frustrated, Rey stepped back, then kicked the vent with all her might. All it did was leave a small scuff mark on her shiny black boots. She stalked away from the wall and went up to the door. She’d never tried to force it open, knowing she didn’t have the strength, but… but something pulled at her chest, wrapping itself around her heart and _tugging._

She took a slow, careful step back, then raised her hand. It hung in the air, perfectly still, fingers slack and soft. Then her other hand joined the first. Unblinking, she clenched her fists, then clawed at the air, wrenching it apart with a snarl.

The metal of the doors crumpled into itself, leaving a gap just large enough for her to slip through.

As if in slow motion, Rey stood staring at the door. The dread pooling in her stomach climbed across her chest, over her lungs, and down her arms, swirling around with the tugging sensation in her heart. Shaky, uncertain, she took a step forward, then another, then she flung herself at the door and scrambled out through the freshly made gap.

The troopers were on her in a second. Two dark troopers that must have been outside her cell clamped their claws down on her shoulders, and two stormtroopers held their blasters at her head, barking at her to return to her cell.

Rey reacted without thought. She didn’t breathe, didn’t blink, just slammed her foot down on the smooth floor of the ship.

This time when the wave of invisible power threw the troopers away from her, she didn’t collapse. She remained standing, shoulders hunched, teeth bared, full of new-found energy. Flexing her shoulders, Rey straightened then looked to the troopers. The stormtroopers were unmoving on the floor, but already the dark troopers were pushing themselves up.

Another kick sent them sliding down the hallway. Rey took off in the other direction, only to skid to a halt. For the first time, she registered the door next to her cell, and- and that was Finn’s cell.

She glanced to the dark troopers once again righting themselves, then tore into the second cell door with her static power. It crumpled in the same way, and when she looked inside, the cell was identical to her own.

And it was empty.

When the sight triggered little in her but more annoyance, she shook herself. She knew something was wrong, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. The change in routine and the haze in her mind were at war with each other, leaving her dazed and even more frustrated.

Before the dark troopers could catch up with her, she ran down the hall. Every step of her boots echoed, then was drowned out by the thunder of a battalion of trooper’s footsteps. When she turned a corner, she came face to face with two lines of stormtroopers, blasters raised.

She stepped forward, and the one nearest the middle of the line shot a warning shot over her shoulder. Rey didn’t flinch.

A second later, the same trooper slammed into the second line, and pandemonium broke loose.

The stormtroopers fired, but Rey leaped into the air, twisting in an impossible flip. When she landed on her feet she landed running, and she ran straight into the lines of troopers. With a sweep of her hand, they went slamming into one another, armor clacking and scraping against itself.

They all tried to fire on her, but Rey somehow dodged every single bolt, though how she managed it she didn’t know. A few of the troopers were hit, and their armor smoked and burned under the heat of the blaster fire.

One bolt grazed Rey’s shoulder, but she didn’t even react, even as her uniform smoked.

The stormtroopers in chaos, Rey ducked and wove through them, jumping across and even on one of their prone bodies. She didn’t stop her speed until she was free of the mess, and even then she kept running. Now, she wasn’t running blindly. Her memories were blurred together and hazy now, but the thrill of her power focused her mind in more acute detail than she’d felt in days.

The elevator was quiet and empty, and Rey bounced on her toes. The tugging sensation in her chest was so strong her breathing felt shallow, pulling her forward, out of the elevator with stumbling steps. She shoved a pair of grey-uniformed Imperial officers out of the way, then ran down the hall, heading towards the walkway across the hanger. There were no conscious decisions at each turn, but her body moved as though she were no longer controlling it.

Right before she burst out of the last door and onto the hanger walkway, a surge of energy washed through her, and Rey staggered back with a gasp. A second later, there was a muffled explosion.

With a harsh breath, Rey wrenched the doors open and scrambled through to the hanger walkway.

The sight she was met with made her entire body go still.

Master Luke’s battleship had, it appeared, crashed into the hanger. A skid line of superheated metal trailed behind it, and while it had slammed into the wall, it didn’t look as damaged as it could have been.

When the exit ramp slammed to the floor faster than it should have, Rey held her breath.

The sight of shining armor and a dark cloak made Rey’s heart clench, her frozen body _aching_ for the comfort the sight gave her. And yet, even with the instinctual warmth, cold fear licked up her sides and curled into her.

The pair were a deadly combination, even against the multitudes of troopers.

As she watched Master Luke and the Mandalorian fight up the flood of white armor and black metal, she was suddenly hurled back in time to her first rescue, to clutching to Master Luke’s back as she watched the Mandalorian protect their getaway ship.

But this time, there were twice, no, _three_ times as many troopers, probably even more. And still, the green glow of Master Luke’s saber and the eerie black and white streaks of the Mandalorian’s Darksaber cut away swaths of the troopers, felling them left and right.

They were a terrifying combination.

Rey watched as Master Luke crumbled the torso of a dark trooper, and the Mandalorian sliced it in half. They spun around, back to back, already attacking the next round. She watched Master Luke throw his arm out and stun a line of hapless stormtroopers, watched the Mandalorian drag his saber across the shell-shocked line, leaving a burning line across their breastplates.

Then, Master Luke looked up and met her eyes, and Rey forgot how to breathe. The wave of power that flowed from him was overwhelming, but she kept herself steady as she stepped forward, ready to jump down and run to the safety of her family.

“And where do you think you are going?”

Karvin’s voice was like a stab of ice straight through every single bone in her spine and legs, all the way from her skull to her toes.

“You belong _here_ ,” he hissed, and the click of his boots on the floor circled her, his hand falling to her shoulder.

Rey couldn’t move.

“You are to _do as I say,_ ” he ordered, and his hand tightened on her shoulder. She did not whimper. She did not breathe.

She felt him step even closer. “You will obey.” His voice was a curl of darkness through the confusion in her heart, eating up and destroying everything else.

It was like she was back in the helmet full of lights, dazed and exhausted and _empty._

“Good,” he hissed. “Now…” he let go of her shoulder and stepped back. “You will let Subject Eight-Seven handle this.”

The words made her handshake, but Rey was still frozen in time, feet locked in place.

Finn came into her field of vision, and her knees felt weak.

He had the same empty expression as always, and when she reached for him with the churning energy in her chest, she felt nothing. Rey’s stomach filled with fear.

She was not afraid of Finn, though. She was afraid _for_ him because if Karvin sent him to fight the Mandalorian and Master Luke, Rey knew who would win. Finn was still just a child like her, and the Mandalorian and Master Luke were an unstoppable force.

Finn didn’t spare her so much as a glance before he dropped from the walkway and began to walk towards the chaos at the side of the hanger. As the Mandalorian cut down the last dark trooper and Master Luke slammed the remaining stormtroopers into a wall, Finn held his head high and continued his unwavering march towards them.

Rey could do nothing but watch as Master Luke raised his lightsaber and the Mandalorian brandished the Darksaber. Even from there, she could feel the energy radiating off the contrasting blades.

She was frozen as Finn raised his hands, but when he threw his fist forward, neither the Mandalorian nor Master Luke moved. They remained standing shoulder to shoulder, staring down the boy.

 _He’s like me,_ she wanted to cry. _He doesn’t want to do this._ But her mental laments were blanketed and caught in themselves like a serpent biting its tail, unable to escape her mind.

When Finn tried to push the pair again, Master Luke raised his gloved hand, and Finn went _rigid._

His hand still raised, he visibly fought against the internal struggle. But after only a few seconds, he collapsed, unconscious.

“No!” Rey fell forwards, reaching blindly for Finn. But she was too close to the edge, and with a startled shout, she tumbled over the railing and fell from the walkway.

The ground slammed into her body a second later, shocking her breath from her lungs. She felt a stabbing pain shoot up from her ankle, but like the blaster shot, she didn’t react and instead scrambled to her feet with little heed for the pain coursing through her body.

She slid down next to his body, frantically grabbing at his face to check for a pulse, for a feeling of life. When she felt it, her body sagged over him, the static energy back and stronger than ever.

“Rey-“ Master Luke never finished his sentence. In a flash, Rey’s hand shot out, and Master Luke flew back and into the Mandalorian from where he’d stepped closer to the two children. He caught himself with a hand on the Mandalorian’s chest, but his eyes were wide.

“Rey, I’m sorry,” he said, and as he spoke, he shut off his saber and lowered it to the clip on his belt. “I didn’t hurt him,” he continued, but she cowered over Finn’s body all the same. “He’s just asleep, I promise.”

Rey was on her feet with her hands raised before she realized what happened. Luke met her eyes from where her power had shoved him back a few steps, but his hands remained at his side in a neutral pose.

Her chest heaved, and the sad look in his eyes caught at her shallow breaths and made her heartthrob. The tug in her chest cried out in pain, reaching towards Master Luke and the Mandalorian, who now was only a step behind Master Luke. And yet, Rey slashed a clawed hand through the air, and as shining silver armor slid across the floor, a sob wrenched its way out of her throat.

The Mandalorian managed to push himself back up, but he stayed where he was, tensed and ready to face another threat.

But _she_ was the threat, and Rey’s whole body trembled as she stood between Finn and Master Luke.

The echoing sounds of Karvin’s boots behind her made Rey shiver, and- and she almost felt _relieved._

“What are you waiting for?” he sneered, and his steps faltered as he stepped over Finn’s unconscious body. “Attack the Jedi.”

But when Rey pushed against Master Luke in another silent attack, she was met with unbreakable strength. She threw herself towards him, slamming her foot down and kicking with the other.

Master Luke’s hands remained at his side, and though his eyes practically glowed with energy, he was unaffected.

“I said attack-!”

Karvin’s snarl was broken by a gasp as Master Luke’s gloved hand shot out. When Rey glanced backward, Karvin’s body hung in the air, his hands clutching at his throat. She looked back to Master Luke, only to flinch away, faltering back a step.

There was a dark glint in his blue, blue eyes, a shadow over his brow. The all-black attire only added to the image of sheer power, and his jaw clenched as he dragged Karvin closer, past Rey, and right up in front of him.

“You will not hurt any more children,” Master Luke hissed. He raised his bare hand, and Rey stared, transfixed, as he placed his fingertips against Karvin’s forehead, pushing his hat up and off.

Karvin’s body shook once more, then stilled, and when Master Luke let him go, he fell to his knees, head bowed but alive.

Rey stared at the Admiral. He did not look back. 

She didn’t know what to do. Karvin’s voice still whispered in the recesses of her mind, whispers of _power_ and _control_ and none of the storm raging inside her. It was so _easy_ to fight, so easy to attack whatever moved. She hated Karvin, she hated him with everything she was, and yet at least here, in the ship, following his orders, she was free of decisions and conflict and the troubles of the outside world.

And then she looked at Master Luke and the Mandalorian. They were safety, she knew that. They were promises kept and warmth and comfort and _family._ They were what helped heal a wound left by her own parents so many years ago.

When Master Luke raised his hand again, she fell towards him.

His arms were as warm and safe as in her dream, and she choked on the emotions that pulled up over her as he held her to him.

“I’m sorry, Rey,” he whispered, and she leaned into his voice. “I’m so sorry, but we’re here now, you’re safe, it’ll be alright.”

Trembling, she slumped over, and Master Luke scooped her up in his arms.

She didn’t remember anything else after that. But she knew, even in bleak darkness, that she was finally home.

_“You are safe,” whispers her mother as they run from planet to planet, a never-ending game of hide and seek from a threat she is too little to understand._

_“We are here,” whispers her father as he turns and leaves her in a ship, his promise already broken but held together by her innocent hope._

_“We will always come when you call,” whispers Master Luke as he and the Mandalorian guard either side of her bed, and she believes them._

“She’ll wake up, right?”

“Yes, Ben. She will wake up.”

_She is-_

_She is…_

_It does not matter how old she is._

_What matters is the grass beneath her, cool against her bare calves and feet where she sits at the edge of the meadow._

_She watches, a soft smile tugging at her lips, as Master Luke and Ben step circles around each other, lightsabers at the ready. Finn holds his breath beside her, and she can even feel Din’s well-hidden interest from where he stands beside them, arms crossed._

_Ben is taller than her now, taller than Finn and Master Luke. She thinks, if they measured, he might even be taller than Din. But with his new height comes new awkwardness, and when he stumbles on his attack, she has to cover her mouth with her hand to hide her snicker. In her lap, Grogu laughs without hiding it, tugging on the front of her tunic as he watches Ben shoot them all a glare before turning back to face off with Master Luke._

_What matters is that it has been years now, years of training with her family, of loud dinners and hours of lightsaber practice and sitting in the field and building the academy and visiting the temple and she will_ never _tire of it._

_What matters is she is home now; be it here on Yavin, exploring endless green with Finn, or on Coruscant with Ben and Leia to learn how exactly the senate actually works, or even on Mandalore, where domed cities and shining helmets alight a spark in her heart that feels so much like her father it aches._

_It does not matter where or how old she is. What matters is the singing light coursing between her and her family, safe because they are together._

When she blinked her eyes open, the first thing she saw was the Mandalorian sitting on the floor beside her bed, slumped over against the wall. Next to him, Master Luke sat with his legs crossed, eyes closed, one hand resting on the Mandalorian’s knee.

She quietly cleared her throat, and both of them instantly looked towards her.

“You’re awake,” said the Mandalorian as Master Luke pushed himself to his feet and came to stand beside her bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Rey took a deep breath, but didn’t say anything. Days of speaking little were taking their toll.

Instead, she reached out with one hand, shaky and uncertain.

Master Luke immediately took it, cradling it between his bare palm and his glove.

She didn’t need to speak. She just looked between him and the Mandalorian and knew she was, finally, safe. Her last dream was already fading away, a trace of the future Rey wasn’t ready to remember yet, but the warmth lingered in her chest.

This was her home.

She didn’t have to fight it anymore.

In the following days, Rey rested. She ate cookies in bed and listened to the Mandalorian tell her even more stories. She listened to Ben tell her how they never stopped searching for her, how they even tried to attack three ragtag Imperial ships before finding the right one. She knocked on her wall and smiled when Finn knocked back, the sound warm and familiar and nothing like the dull echo in their cells.

She healed. She remembered how to feel. The haze in her mind slowly cleared, and her thoughts sprang to life more and more every day.

When she was finally strong enough to get out of bed, she had breakfast with Grogu and the Mandalorian, and when the Mandalorian rested a heavy hand on her shoulder, she leaned into it. That night, she fell asleep on the bed in his back room, curled up around Grogu, the Mandalorian keeping watch nearby.

As the clutches of their treatment in the ship slowly fell apart, Rey showed Finn everything. She lead him around to each house, each room. She showed him the practice staffs, the little hovering droids she and Ben would chase in training. She showed him every single one of her favorite foods and laughed at his shocked expressions.

She ground her teeth in frustration when Finn and Ben bickered, both too stubborn for their own good (but neither were a match for her).

She sighed in relief when her hands were steady enough to pull her hair up, and Leia’s smile on the holo call that night made Rey’s eyes well with tears.

The damage Karvin and the Empire caused her and Finn might never fully disappear, especially in his case. Where she’d been in their clutches only a few weeks, his capture was so very much longer. So she knew who’s fault it was when Finn spent entire days in his room, sitting on the floor with a blank look. She knew she couldn’t do anything more than sit beside him, silent, just like back in their cells.

But still, they healed. And the days slipped by, and summer turned to chilly air and heavy rain, and Ben returned home to Coruscant and the Mandalorian returned to Mandalore, though Rey could feel just how much he wanted to stay.

And for once, while their departures were painful, she knew she would see them again. Because she knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that these people were her family. And her family would never abandon her.

As she stood in the field, holding Grogu and watching the Mandalorian’s ship disappear into the dark clouds, she breathed a deep sigh, then turned around to head to the houses.

She had years ahead of her, after all. Years of her family, years of training to be a Jedi, years of learning the Mandalorian way, years of this deep-set comfort.

When the Mandalorian’s ship was finally out of sight, Rey smiled to herself and went to find Master Luke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL BOYS.. SHES DONE.... however i have a handful of oneshots already written ill add to the series. just happy lil fluff balls to soothe my aching soul 
> 
> this whole thing originally wasnt gonna be longer than, oh, 15k words. but uh. that changed. apparently. 
> 
> thanks for sticking around for so long... every single comment made writing this story possible :””) 
> 
> im on tumblr as [4hoots](https://4hoots.tumblr.com/) and [mychemicalraymond](https://mychemicalraymond.tumblr.com/) if u ever get the fancy to say hello. 
> 
> thanks for reading! bye for now :>

**Author's Note:**

> this idea sprang to life my in lil freak brain. like, one second? head empty. next second? this entire thing exists in my brain now. so im writing it! im almost done! itll be posted within the next week or so!
> 
> plz bare w me i promise this is going somewhere
> 
> tumblr is 4hoots, or something


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